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Literature Text
There was a green lawn
A time bomb
Ticking down
Until it was consumed by weeds
Tragedy
There was a child
Itching at phantoms
Pulling off the skin
To check that she was
Only blood and bone within
There was an empty house on that street
Where kids used to play
And then one day
The swings didn't move and the wind didn't blow
And the music went quiet
And I still don't know
Why
A time bomb
Ticking down
Until it was consumed by weeds
Tragedy
There was a child
Itching at phantoms
Pulling off the skin
To check that she was
Only blood and bone within
There was an empty house on that street
Where kids used to play
And then one day
The swings didn't move and the wind didn't blow
And the music went quiet
And I still don't know
Why
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So, true story, I thought I submitted this weeks ago but I hadn't. Oops. I'm submitting it now.
This is about the woman I had as a step mom when I was in 6th grade in Arkansas in 2005. She was extremely physically abusive and child services told my father he had to pick between me and her. He picked her and I was sent away to live with my grandparents in Florida. He later took me back, we moved to Alabama, and I got another step mom who wasn't physically abusive but wasn't really emotionally there as a mom either. Since I've moved out she all but ignores me and now her and my father are out of my life.
Anyway, my grandparents took me on my spring break one year back to Arkansas and when they went to see friends I went back down my old street and saw my old house and talked to the neighbours. One thing they told me was that after my family left the neighbourhood children quit playing outside and the street got quiet and I kept thinking that maybe if I had stayed quiet about the abuse maybe other people would have been happier even if I wasn't. That maybe I was really as selfish and awful as my step mother had told me.
This is about the woman I had as a step mom when I was in 6th grade in Arkansas in 2005. She was extremely physically abusive and child services told my father he had to pick between me and her. He picked her and I was sent away to live with my grandparents in Florida. He later took me back, we moved to Alabama, and I got another step mom who wasn't physically abusive but wasn't really emotionally there as a mom either. Since I've moved out she all but ignores me and now her and my father are out of my life.
Anyway, my grandparents took me on my spring break one year back to Arkansas and when they went to see friends I went back down my old street and saw my old house and talked to the neighbours. One thing they told me was that after my family left the neighbourhood children quit playing outside and the street got quiet and I kept thinking that maybe if I had stayed quiet about the abuse maybe other people would have been happier even if I wasn't. That maybe I was really as selfish and awful as my step mother had told me.
Comments11
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It takes courage to talk about abuse. Abuse is meant to keep you from talking and manipulate you into giving into the others demands. Even if your stepmom was right about you being selfish and awful which I do not believe at all she still had no right to treat you the way she did.
I really love your poem it's very beautiful and touching!
I really love your poem it's very beautiful and touching!