Collection of Poems

Abused

I can taste the salt of the tear sliding down his beaten face, over his wounds.

I sense his shaking hands he hides behind his back, so he can appear tough.

I see his big eyes swell with fear of being beaten again by HIM.

I can see the scars on his body like a road map.

I can taste the salt of the tear sliding down her beaten face, over her wounds.

I sense her shaking hands she hides behind her back, so she can appear tough.

I see her big eyes swell with fear of being beaten again by HIM.

I can see the scars on her body like a road map.

I hear their cry for help.

Their plea for a new better life.

Introduced to things no child should ever go through.

They live in the dark.

Fear of coming out.

Scarred for life of a single touch.

Too afraid to have anyone touch them.

I feel the knife slice the arm.

As the dark red blood oozes to the floor.

I sense their distress.

I sense their hopelessness.

I can taste the bitterness of alcohol sliding down the back of their throat.

A little, then a little bit more, then the bottle.

Happiness that couldn't be found anywhere else.

Found through pain and drinking.

I sense their cry to be loved.