On Monday, April 9, 2012, Janet Tallevast <ladysynfull@gmail.com> wrote: > > > On Tuesday, March 27, 2012, LadySyn Jan rani New login <sinasin@live.com> wrote: > >> Broken Child >> >> Body battered lays >> >> Gravel blood bone >> >> Heart pumps blood gone >> >> Pain, roaring, soaring >> >> Where is the laughter? >> >> Why did you take my life? >> >> Pain bright light >> >> Body racked unmoving >> >> Scars past all hiding >> >> Man sweats pants pour >> >> Touches hurts pain again >> >> Why now why me? >> >> Body yearns touches burns >> >> Year pass, body broken still >> >> Soul yearns freedom release >> >> Love gone, feeling fled >> >> Finding again, but too late led >> >> Why me I cry broken hearted >> >> Fix, no none there >> >> For the past is here inside >> >> I cry, mourn scream torment >> >> Scars deep outside in >> >> Broken child scorned >> >> Broken woman cries. >> >> Until there is no place more to hide¦. >> >> Jan >> >> >> >> Don't be afraid to be weak >> Don't be too proud to be strong >> Just look into your heart my friend >> That will be the return to yourself >> The return to innocence. >> If you want, then start to laugh >> If you must, then start to cry >> Be yourself don't hide >> Just believe in destiny. >> Don't care what people say >> Just follow your own way >> Don't give up and use the chance >> To return to innocence. >> >> >> >> We talk about those that slip thru the cracks, where does it start and begin how do we know when they need help or when they can manage. I think it's a case of each person at a time, case. Everyone is unique, and solved their problems in their own ways,. ' >> >> >> >> Then there are the ones who cry out for help, but are silent in their screams. The ones who are more then afraid that someone will help them wrongly or is it more we are scared to get involved.. It is not only children, or children having children, it can be adults also. That scream that cuts the soul but is not heard for help, and cry their silent tears that rend their souls apart. That fear that tears and rip from themselves the very fiber of their being, and life. >> >> >> >> Who do we help, how do we help, how do we know to help? I don't have the answers, not truly for I have been one who silently scream for help. >> >> >> >> We stand in our safe little houses and read the stories and say, someone should have done something listened to them. I think perhaps we who ask this should ask, "How can we help you my dear? I will not judge for I have seen and done my own horrors and terrors. I might not know yours exactly but I know mine, and I am holding out a hand to you." >> >> >> >> But do we? Or do we let them slip one more child one more person thru the cracks again due to our lack of caring instead we stay in our apathy, and cry for those who fall. And we point our moral finger at others, even as we sit safe and sound in our own little houses and safe little world. >> >> >> >> Open your eyes people, that might be your daughter in that dumpster with the babes blue frozen lips nuzzling against her child mothers frozen breast. How old the child whispers those who look morbidly gawking as they bring the children our in their death shrouds, large construction size trash bags. >> >> >> >> Is it not strange to see how the child wraps protectively around the babe? The open eyes shining almost in the sunlight is that love you see? Surely not for how could she do this to a child. But wait, is that not also a child? >> >> >> >> I can't not again.. not this time. >> >> I cry my pain.. the need the strain >> >> Oh why oh why.. why cannot I have >> >> This one thing, only this to be with the man I love >> >> >> >> I can't do this again, not this time.. >> >> I have to say goodbye, while I am still sane. >> >> Why now this male who moves my heart >> >> Come into my life, and says >> >> >> >> I love you beloved he says to me. >> >> My eyes hide the fact inside I die >> >> How can I continue to live this life.. >> >> How can I continue wanting him so much >> >> >> >> Why oh why oh why.. must it be also this way >> >> Why does my heart long for you and wish to go astray >> >> To rest with you; abide in you the rest of my days. >> >> Yours its a game you play, You have no time for me today. >> >> >> >> I can't do this again I can't. >> >> My heart swells and swells tight as a tick >> >> And is ready to explode with the love you hold >> >> Inside of me, I cannot see, I cannot feel >> >> >> >> Only the love I have for you.. >> >> And the knowledge that one day.. >> >> One lonely pain filled wrecked day >> >> One day you will throw my love away. >> >> Flying high so high in the sky >> >> >> >> Free at last as I search the land >> >> I scree my joy my freedom >> >> But it was never meant to last. >> >> A careless neglect to scan >> >> >> >> The heavens, earth and hills >> >> There stands one gun raised >> >> Who wishes this wild one ill >> >> A shot rings out, and I pause >> >> In Flight, my eyes wide open >> >> >> >> As I feel such fright, and then >> >> Tumbling faster and faster >> >> The earth looms near >> >> My wing shattered, >> >> My scream for all to hear >> >> This one once free >> >> >> >> Now is free no more. >> >> Sitting in a cage of gilded bars >> >> Broken wing says she will fly no more >> >> A hand shoves food under my bill >> >> The rancid smell making me ill >> >> Who can know what is gone >> >> >> >> Why the heart is broken >> >> The sorrow of the soul >> >> The sky's forever forbidden >> >> The wing shattered to low >> >> >> >> Dragging it now my eyes rage >> >> Hating that this now is my Home >> >> Out of Kindness my cage >> >> Outside placed on the enclosed porch >> >> The eyes once sharp and alive >> >> Scan the skies, I cry out my hatred >> >> >> >> My pain, sorry, shame >> >> I once the queen of the sky winds >> >> Now brought down to this >> >> Broken shattered, Spirit no more >> >> I just ruffle my feathers and tuck my head >> >> So I do not see the glorious morn. >> >> >> >> Or hear my mates lonely call >> >> As he tried to gain my interest >> >> What knows he of bars and cages >> >> For he is still free. My fetters >> >> Forever keeping me from him >> >> >> >> And never will these wings >> >> Take to the sky ways >> >> Never more will I fly free >> >> For now I am slave to the man >> >> Who so carelessly shot me >> >> >> >> Life never was promised to be easy or fair, but what we make of it. How we solve our problems show or should show how we will succeed in life. There are those who make it and then those who do not. Those are the ones who slip thru the cracks so to speak. >> >> >> >> >> >> When we talk about the ones that slip through the cracks, what do we really mean? Where does it start and how does it begin? How do we know when they need help or when they can manage it on their own? I think it's a case of one person at a time. Everyone is unique, and everyone solves their problems in their own way. >> >> >> >> But: >> >> >> >> Then there are the ones who cry out for help, but are silent in their screams. The ones who are more afraid that someone will help them wrongly - or is it more that we are scared to get involved. It is not only children, or children having children; it can be adults also. The scream for help that cuts the soul but is not heard, the cry of silent tears that rend their souls apart, that fear that tears and rips from themselves the very fiber of their being, and life - what will it take for the others to hear what the heart is trying to say. >> >> >> >> Who do we help, how do we help, how do we know to help? I don't have the answers, not truly for I have been one who silently screams for help. >> >> >> >> We stand in our safe little houses and read the stories and say, someone should have done <-something, should have listened to them. I think perhaps we who ask this should also ask, "How can we help you my dear? I will not judge for I have seen and had my own horrors and terrors. I might not know yours exactly but I know mine, and I am holding out a hand to you." >> >> >> >> But do we? Or do we let them slip - one more child, one more person - thru the cracks again due to our lack of caring. Instead we stay in our apathy, and cry too late for those who fall. And we point our moral finger at others, even as we sit safe and sound in our own little houses and safe little world. >> >> >> >> Open your eyes people! That might be your daughter in that dumpster with the babes blue frozen lips nuzzling against her child mother's frozen breast. "My God, how old is the child?" are the whispers from those who look on, morbidly gawking as they bring the children out in their death shrouds, large construction size trash bags. >> >> >> >> Inside they shrink in fear that this sight might tear asunder the iron curtain they have around their caring. It once was a live heart, but now, it is shrunken and frozen by the need to not get involved. >> >> >> >> Is it not strange to see how the child wraps protectively around the babe? The open eyes almost shine in the sunlight. Is that love you see? Surely not, for how could she do this to a child. But wait; is that not also a child? The tears start to thaw in frozen tear ducts as hopefully a small piece of caring, of horror, at the sight they behold might melt the iron hearts. Can we as a people keep seeing this and not relearn that we are human,that we shar a part humanity with love and warm beating hearts that would take these in and shelter them, succor the children, teach them, show them. Maybe then we would not get inured to this sight, that of pulling yet another child out of a dumpster around the corner, what is it's story you might think. But do you care enough to ask? >> >> >> >> I do. Why, why do you do this, you carry this living being inside you for 9 months, and it's born. If you do not want it, take it to a church, a firehouse, a police house, give it to me. I will love and care that it is alive, and will find a place that will give it what a child should expect, a life, not death. Not the horrid death these babies are being tortured with every day, thrown in trash heaps in bags, the fire ants eat thru and bite and tear at the tender flesh. Listen to the silent screams, the whimpers for life. And get our of your chair, and go stop that girl from throwing away a precious gift, help her, console her, drive her to the fire station, the police station, the hospital no one will ask questions. Just hand the baby over, turn walk away if you can't take care of the baby, let it live, do not in truth, heart and
