Part of my job is seeing and hearing things I wished didn't happen, but know they will, as long as humans are all too human. This poem is a dark poem, more because its all too often part of someone's life then we might like to admit.
Domestic Hell
In the once comforting dark,
her large luminous eyes,
shine like ebony jewels bright,
like the tears on her tiny cheeks.
Her tiny fear so strong it reeks,
as she lies in the darkness in fright,
listening to her mother’s painful cries,
until dawn’s first glimmering spark.
Like booze, arguments and anger flow,
words that are so strong they sting,
her parents vent their frustrations now,
and she lies in the dark in her own fear.
Fearing neither parent remembers what’s dear,
cries of pain and anger together ring,
and in the dark room she hears the row,
somewhere near dawn comes the first blow.
A slamming door, her daddy is gone to work, or away,
and mommy is silent, so silent it all seems so wrong,
hours pass without end, and she is so hungry there,
then a big man in blue comes in and shakes his head.
A lady took her away, for mommy couldn’t, she said,
so strangers would have to give her some loving care
daddy she never saw again, or heard his go-to-sleep song,
they said he had a terrible debt, so he had to go away to pay.
She lies in a darkened room, and hears memories again,
wondering if they will ever go away like daddy did,
and fearing they might, and then she’d be so alone,
and its so hard growing up in a stranger’s home this way.
She longs for someone to say its all ok, so she can play,
with mommy and daddy once again, her punishment to atone,
lost in the dark, she burrows under the covers, time she hid,
maybe one day she would hear the words that would end her pain.
Yes, there is this side of life
Some walk in darkness, beatings and strife
the scars are carried on the skin
but those inside, buried deep
are more painful than those
visible to the human eye.
The soul scars are etched
in tissue and flesh
the brain tapes are played
when not a request
They undermine the human
trying to do best
the negative tapes play
night and day
the tapes need a cleaning
a blank space to start
a new set of scenes a new guide
to follow sometimes it's hard
the learning new ways
but not impossible to
fly with the breeze.