HauntedA Poem by Jane SmithChild Molestation and sexual abuseSometimes at night In the faintest light I can her cry and shout Her heart filled with doubt
Tear struck cheeks She trembles as she speaks Her tiny hands reach out to me Asking to set her free
She keeps asking why Did I let her innocence die Why didn’t I stop him from robbing her? How could I let myself defer?
She touched me then Taking me to when He would ask her sit in his lap Too young to know it was a trap
He would shift her to the middle, between his thighs And against her behind she felt it rise He kept grinding her up and down Acting like she kept slipping, with a frown
But after a while she heard his groans And she felt the chill in her bones Suddenly her uncle’s lap didn’t feel safe Her purity felt broken and chafe
After that day it happened again and again And that’s how the story of my haunting began I can still hear the girl I used to be Wondering how I didn’t see
Her tiny voice strikes my heart I should have spoken in the start I dig my nails deep into my skin I try to forget his satisfied grin
I don’t wish to recall the smell of pot on his breath Or the news of his painless death I can feel the sheer hate in my gut I suffer it with every cut © 2013 Jane SmithReviews
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1 Review Added on May 22, 2013 Last Updated on May 22, 2013 AuthorJane SmithAboutI am an aspiring poet, dancer, and a student. I recently started using the internet to share my poems so i'm new to all this. Read my work and let me know what you think. more..Writing
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