Abuse comes in basically 3 forms, Physical, Verbal and Mental. I think mental abuse is the worst of the 3. Broken bones mend, bruises fade, threats and choice words can be forgiven however all of these are never forgotten. Something said or done, a particular smell, a gut feeling, seeing the signs happening to someone else. These are some triggers to bringing the fears of ten or twenty years ago.
If you think women are the only sufferers you would be wrong, men, women, and sadly children can be victims. Two poems for Poetry Pantry
Her thoughts were her own
On the hospital bed,
Echoing words,
Of the things that he said
Control and cage you,
Break your soul to the core,
Say that he loves you,
Call you a scrub and a whore.
Her husband beside her,
Took his eyes from his book,
“Tidy your face girl.”
“You make me feel crook.”
It was then the door opened,
And there stood a man,
Who moved straight towards her,
And held out his hand.
The husband got angry,
And picked up his chair,
He threw it towards him,
But the man wasn't there.
Her husband's last memory,
Was the pain in his head,
The ache of ribs broken,
He’d wished he was dead.
Returned to the room,
She had tears in her eyes,
The man asked her no questions,
What-ifs and no whys.
He just held her hand,
As it shook and did shake,
He kissed it so gently,
No pain did it make.
For the rest of her time there,
He sat by her bed,
Telling her stories,
Of things they had said.
She swore then and there,
That never again,
Would a man ever control,
Or drive her insane.
By Steve Boddey
The blood was not his,
As he looked at his hand,
He just watched the child crying,
This despicable man.
No mother for comfort,
A child with no friend,
No brothers or sisters,
Want the beating to end.
Yelling and screaming,
Yet the child remain still,
Doing whatever,
Was this mans will.
A good hearted woman,
Passed by there one day,
She stared at the child,
Who had nothing to say?
The black marks and the bruises,
That is what she did see,
She told the poor child,
That has happened to me
The man was outraged
When he saw her stand there,
Mind your own business,
What do you care?
She pulled out a pistol,
And he heard the gun click,
He fell to his knees,
Feeling quite sick.
The squad car arrived,
Heard the things he had done,
This good hearted woman,
Came back for her son.
11 comments:
Wow, so much pain and suffering. I like the kind man who sat by her bed, and that rescue arrived to save the child. So much suffering everywhere.
This is very powerful writing really. And I find myself reflecting on mental abuse. I think all three are bad, but I think I agree with you that mental abuse is the worst as it is so very insidious. In regard to your poem, no one should ever control another. I feel sad for all victims of abuse - most of whom have suffered it in silence.
Such an epidemic of this kind of thing nowadays! And yes, very hard to understand how anyone can bring themselves to do such violence to the vulnerable. It's a good thing that someone is writing about it.
Agree with Rosemary... so good that you're writing about this. Thank you.
Important pieces powerfully rendered.
Thank you for writing this much needed poem. The topic is of urgent importance, and the poem itself is a powerful read!
We need to do better as a society. Our children are watching and learning both from our action and inaction.
Heartbreaking. The man is an angel.
Abuse in any form is so ugly... I think somehow that abusive people are mostly afraid... fear is a poison.
Abuse is a nasty thing. It rots everything it touches--the one being abused, anyone who cares about them, the abuser.
Abuse in any form is always horrendous. You are a very powerful emotional writer.
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