The Song of the Deprived

A musical wind of a blanket clad night,

A dark sky blessed with a streak of the lover’s light.

The child who’s scared of lovers and strangers alike,

Nurses her wounds like a burning dyke.

Her world that is, devoid of all hopeless hopes,

As she fights and struggles every hour, and copes.

The sound of his voice, a deafening roar,

That of a tiger preying upon, a helpless boar.

The screams drowned by inebriated laughs,

Lost in the abyss of cigarette puffs.

Mother and father, caress their worthy son,

A daughter for what?  Only to shun.

Eyes, meant for dreaming awake,

Has nothing but tears of fear to make.

Pushed and pushed, by all for gain,

Left her, empty, everything drained.

The home, that should be the safest of all,

Serves as her most perilous call.

“Let me be!”,  to the family, she weeps,

As the eyes of humanity, with a tear, drips.

 

 

 

 

 

Reviews

[Joanna Maharis]

A raw and gut wrenching piece of writing. Beautiful use of language filled with strong, powerful images which tug at the soul and spirit, as well as the heart. Great job overall. As a writer, you've connected with your audience very well. I admire the way you talk to your audience instead of preaching.

[Thunderbird]

Thank you. :)

[Gee]

Nice, lost rhythm half way through, for me, but enjoyed the read. Well done

[Thunderbird]

Thank you. :)