Poems We plan to pick a poem each month about child abuse or from victims of abuse and print them on this page as a way of sharing tears and healing old wounds. Some may illustrate the pain and others may illustrate the hope and healing. Keep in mind that some aspects may be "triggering" so be sure your mind feels in a safe place before reading on. Thank you.
There is no peace.... by Pamela Prentiss-Harrison
The night falls gentle upon the earth
but hard within the heart of a terror-filled child.
There is no peace this night
but a sentry-like awareness of
every noise, every movement
within the house.
A silent prayer is taken upon the wings
of the mourning dove
who waters the ground below with its tears
watching puddles form where each drop lands
forming a new ocean of sorrow.
There is no peace this night.
The tender child draws itself
into a tiny ball as if to disappear
... footsteps are heard in the hall
"please no" is whispered, "please go" is prayed
as the doorknob quietly turns.
There is no peace this night.
The dove soars higher, shaking sobs within its breast
penetrating clouds, gliding on wind
seeking its source
looking for the Light
knowing there will be no peace this night.
The shadow falls across
clenched fists, tousled curls,
drawn up limbs, eyes squeezed shut
against the scene about to unfold
scarcely breathing, knowing
there is no peace this night.
Feverishly winging toward
the rainbow of light and celestial destination,
the dove contracts and gasps with the pain
of its little charges' spirit
and delivers the message
To the being of Light & Beauty
who swoops down to grasp the hand of the child
and deliver its pain to another dimension
to be stored until the child is stronger
and able to face the reality of evil on the earth.
The angel cradles her charge,
gently rocking, while tears stream down her face...
mixing with the silent tears of the child.
The dove quietly sings its grievous song of mourning
for the lost innocence of this precious tot.
There is no peace this night.
Day of the Child Note: Aside from being a gifted writer, Pamela Prentiss-Harrison is one of our incredible ambassadors (Mississippi) who has a real heart for hurting childen and even a warrior-like spirit to stand in the gap for these hurting young ones. Pamela we salute you and appreciate the work you do in this field. Many are blessed to know you.
"THE PROMISE"
As I noticed myself becoming old and gray,
I knew it was time to visit the little girl of yesterday.
She had been kept safely hidden
In a place where others had been forbidden.
She knew I had to leave her long ago,
So one of us could find the strength to grow.
I promised her that I would someday return,
For she was my main concern.
No one could understand how her and I connect,
For I was the one present during the crime and neglect.
As I opened the door to yesterday,
I heard the sound of children happily at play,
But I noticed her sitting all alone and sad
Until our eyes met and she became glad.
We reunited by hugging and kissing one another
Like a beloved daughter and a mother.
I comforted her and dried away her tears
That were too painful for so many years.
As I looked in her small eyes of grey,
I told her that the monster had gone away.
She looked up at me and said,"I love you"
Then I replied, "I love you too".
Someone who cared had finally set her free.
The little girl that I used to be.
Andrea
---------------------
Lost Innocence
Anonymous
Looking back on a time and place
Seeing a child's innocent face
Knowing that things aren't as they appear
For inside she cries silent tears
Deep inside she is filled with pain
She feels dirty and full of shame
Innocence lost at a very young age
Locked this child in a pain filled cage
There is no freedom or escape
From the fact this child was raped
While the guilty man is roaming free
This child is sentenced to eternity
Eternity locked away with all this shame
She can't help but feel that she was to blame
Even though common sense says it was not her fault
She can't seem to help from having these thoughts
What ifs' keep running through her mind
She keeps going back to those moments in time
If there isn't something different she could have done
Why didn't she scream or at least try to run
Fear kept her frozen to the spot
While this grown man did what he should have not
Shame and fear made her keep the silence
Kept her telling anyone about the violence
The thing that is shocking beyond belief
Is that this child could not get any relief
The same thing happened again and again
The first one was just how it began
More than one man did his worst
None of them caring about the child they hurt
After the first time was it easy to tell
Was it her pain and shame they could smell?
With every touch a part of her died
Now she is in a prison that has no gate
Every one of them sealing her fate
------
GOD's Little Child
GOD sent me to you to melt your cold heart
And to give your life a new start
I was just a bundle of love
Sent from Heaven above
GOD had put twinkles in my eyes
From the stars He took from the sky
But I didn't melt your cold heart as you held me that day
I only heard the awful words you begin to say
I feft the blows and I felt the pain
And I felt my life slipping away
As my blood flowed leaving stains
You left me to die all alone
But GOD was watching from His Heavenly Throne
GOD sent His Angels to me and as they wiped away my tears
They told me never again would I know fear
The Angels carried me back to my Home above
Where JESUS greeted me with open arms of love
He smiled at me and said" I know what you have been through because I was abused and murdered to". " I will continue to knock on this cold heart's door and maybe before it is too late
Love will replace hate".
Janice Stancil, 2001
Lashes Of Life
The lashes of life you may not see
Just by looking at me
I have hid the emotional scars deep within
And I have pretended my tears were diamonds
My mother beat me most of the time with an invisible whip
made with hurtful words that cut deep
But no one read the abusive signs
I carried like chains
When she thought I hadn't suffered enough
She beat me with anything close to her hands
And each time when she finally let me go I ran
Hoping to find a way of escape
No matter my childhood age
I was a frightened child
For I lived in the devil's rage
Even now that I am a grown woman
That frightened child lives within me
But I hide her so the world will not see
What a "Mother" did to her
When my mother died
People wondered why I hardly cried
I, and the child within me watched
as mother was lowered in her deep dark grave
And I knew she would never again
Hurt the little child within me
I now know JESUS and I love Him so
He sees and knows the little frightened child
within me
JESUS is gently healing the scars mother's lashes made
And I thank JESUS because I believe
One day this frightened child will be free
Janice Stancil
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Day of the Child NOTE: It's sad that abuse would cause this type of feeling in a precious individual but these types of thoughts are very real to those experiencing the evils of abuse. Please pray for the victims who have had their joy of living stolen from them at an early age and that they would receive enough grace to heal.
If you would like to read additional poems by victims and survivors of abuse please click here to go to one of our supportive ambassador's sites of poems. Tell others.
