|
A StoryShe was only 18 when she met the father little did the child know what the stars had in store A business transaction to say ‘I do' one night's satisfaction a lifetime to rue Always a difficult child people and rules defied a child, troublesome and wild grew into evil personified Footloose and fancy free until a child had begun maybe a welcomed opportunity had fate willed it to be a son The infant became a burden born to one so young to care for without hurting was a song to remain unsung From onward the age of four this child would be burned and battered to silence the sound of laughter her home would be a small dark cupboard To challenge her rule meant the sight of a hanger even worse, to fail at school invited the welts of yet more anger To ensure humiliation was complete and done with such malice and glee she'd shave her daughter's head and repeat with a witch's cackle, 'now no one will think you're pretty' And if for nothing more than sheer delight the knuckles held in store what gave the heart a fright Then there was the lynch from the famous dog chain her enjoyment of each flinch a guarantee of yet more pain The aftermath said to sooth an ice cold bath to hide the bruise Short and fat, perhaps it didnt help that she looked like a black olive in a wetsuit the weights on her diving belt had to hold down hundreds of pounds x two The irony if you please was in her profession where she'd hatch her ideas to take home and try on The City of New York from midnight ‘til eight her officialdom of work the irony of fate A Social Worker for Child Welfare sheltering infants with burns laugh if you dare the irony still churns Flames on stove took on whole new meaning in hand would go all ears deaf to screaming Water boiled in kettle small hand in kitchen sink water inside metal intended other than for drink As liquid met with skin small child slowly burned eyes of sudden blind backs of others turned Punishments solely designed to savage and control by fear while others had parents who were kind she was sorry to be here Then one day at dawn car stood and await destination? a shelter for unwanted spawn Come, we must not be late You see, this child stole the best years of her life at the shelter would it unfold the tale of a young girl's strife There for the first time did she tell the truth about mama her life of hell Did anyone listen? did they respond? you tell me, when six months on Back home was she sent no one asked if she wanted to go perhaps it was good they meant but little could they know Now the cat was out of its bag there would be a price to pay you told all - on your head be it as with spiteful venom she shaved away Part of the child's punishment for having been born was to be dressed in a way which ensured other kids' scorn Bullied at school abused at home a childhood cruel never to belong One snowy day refusing to look the fool only this time off she went less ugly booties to school Behind were left the shoes of a geek aware there'd be punishment though none of which she could speak Sure enough on returning unbowed stood the invitation to take leave again why don't you go for a walk in the snow only leave your shoes and coat please, never mind the pain A small price to pay for a tiny but defiant rebellion yet at the end of the day she'd not be cowed to submission Such was her life until the day she decided the options were two to a friend she confided The choices are simple either away from home I run or my life I take either way, with her I'm done Having thus far survived for 15 years she opted for the first whatever the cause for future tears she'd be damned if they'd quench this woman's thirst In planning ahead, though not a lot trying to find reason or cause be everything this psychopath was not and not everything she was Such was the advice from an ex-con one of the many men her mother ‘knew' the Italian stallion, lovely John who she paid for a good 'seeing to' And so to hell this woman she sent taking her on having said "no more" off to the courts and foster homes she went until the age of 18 when she closed the door Paving the way with strength and love in the many years since then every day thanking her stars above for having survived a mother's venom. Poetry Ad-Free Upgrades Vote for this poem
|
|
| |||||||||||||||||||
|