Nurtured By Sorrows in Childhood

Nourished by horrid memories indeed.

Imageries I wish unseen.

I thought it, I wrote it.

I lived it; I remember it.

A child in darkness puts hell in ovationY

but where was my heaven?

A child that needed holy liberation,

oh, how I tried with my little hands to beckon!

I swear I was touched then, by an angel, I think.

Over the years my heart would shrink.

I am not sure who the angel was, for its face was blackened…

but where was my heaven?

Cold, wet cement walls echoed whining,

the terror within the darkness shining.

Why can it all be just a dream?

So, behind my eyelids the past can no longer scream.

My angel, my protector, and my hero you should have been.

Oh, my angel, this should never have happened.

You pierced me with your black arrow,

causing me much sorrow.

Your touch kind and trustworthy but that face!

Oh, that face of yours chained me to the darkened corner.

Out of my broken body, you squeezed out the childhood grace!

Now I wallow in that corner still with this inner torture!

I grew up too fast.

I would love to have all the innocence back.

Having a voice now,

in the aftermath of such, I ought to possess a poetic voice!

One steals what another has lost.

Your thieving smothered the firelight out of my soul.

Nearly every day, I cross my arms in the comforting hold

of the only one who knows, who will understand.

I hug myself.

These eyes glaze over like an ice shelf.

Still, I hope for somebody

to make me free again.

Now I think of that basement,

only to relive the horror,

To break free from this encasement,

I never again will see that childhood looking back in the mirror.