Beneath That Placid Lake

A poem about living through child abuse.

She knows the means, how to be very good,

in dawn of youth, quickly learned all she could.

She stays inside the lines, head down, no fool,

for she’s been slapped ‘round, him by, cold and cruel.

 

She moves with great speed, desperate her grace,

she’s mastered tests, and keeps up with the pace.

A fighter she is, her head ‘bove the wake,

yet kicks, and screams, beneath that placid lake.

 

She’s on her toes for all life’s ups and downs,

chameleon’s cause, she’s ever tethered bound.

She’s on a constant watch, e’er looking ‘round,

let’s loose her claws, thus holding to the ground.

 

She lies so neatly, faking her first trait,

the smiles come easy, though she’s lost in hate.

She floats through life, ne’er taking sickly bait,

though fears the cutting beast, she e’er too late.

 

She’s thus been lonely, tight, in fetal curl,

a battered child, all cruelties she is hurled.

She’s alone, cold nights, in a soulless world,

e’er she, this lost and lonely child unfurled.

 

A defiled girl, bearing a deep, dark pain,

vicious, violent, she’s deflecting the rain.

She stabs, she cuts, with nothing left retained,

she damns, devours, for she is so well-trained.

 

But dying, beaten, those whippings leave stains,

her blood finds release from her mouth these days.

She feels sweet nothing, for she’s now been slayed,

a void is left, her spirit sent astray.

Author's Note

Poetic Structure: Iambic Tretrameter
For analysis send me an email and I will be happy to share.