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The Life of the Abused
Contributed by
lil_angel
on
Wednesday, 5th May 2004 @ 03:53:31 PM in AEST
Topic:
SadPoetry
|
A child turns in to an adult way too fast
Young years robbed form innocents
Days of daffodils and parks
Along with joy are no more
Das of weeping
Times of screaming
Are what is here now
A phone call a busy single
When leather meets skin an awful sound emerges
When skin meets skin a cry is out
They can run, but can not hide
They can hide, but are found
When they are found
It all starts again
May 7th 1999
Copyright ©
lil_angel
... [
2004-05-05 15:53:31]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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Re: The Life of the Abused
(User Rating: 1 )
by Brie on
Wednesday, 5th May 2004 @ 06:19:25 PM AEST
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a Message)
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| I really liked your poem. My grandmother was an acholic and she hit me a lot too. Isn't it weird how people can not notice. Sorry for your pain |
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Re: The Life of the Abused
(User Rating: 1 )
by Drive_By on
Thursday, 6th May 2004 @ 11:55:30 PM AEST
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a Message)
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| Discombobulated. |
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Re: The Life of the Abused
(User Rating: 1 )
by NirvanaLotus on
Friday, 14th May 2004 @ 02:22:58 PM AEST
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| wonderful poem. i know the feeling in it and i think you portrayed it wondefully. just beutiful |
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Re: The Life of the Abused
(User Rating: 1 )
by Essentially9 on
Friday, 14th January 2005 @ 10:49:09 PM AEST
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a Message)
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| and the cycle continues with every generation. ::sigh:: |
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