The tiny child lies weeping upon her wetted bed,
A creak upon the staicase that fills her heart with dread;
The smell of strong ammonia mixed with a sense of fear,
Her heart almost stops beating as punishment draws near.
Cold air expels in silence as horror plays a tune,
Her windpipe holds it's breathing as he walks in the room;
Suspended animation , survival mode kicks in,
She climbs inside her mind room to keep her from his sin.
Phsyciatrist sits waiting, with patience he'll allow,
This girl to tell her story, she'll make it through somehow;
With tender understanding, she'll leave that tortured mind,
Where she has hid in silence, the place he couldn't find.
A contest entry
- Rhyme and Flow part 3 New - 50,000 points series by cricketjeff.
4000 points, ended June 15, 2008, 51 entries
Bronze trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 11 of 11
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Oh I so love this!
The write, that is...well penned!
Congrats on the Bronze!
Write on and on!
on Earth
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This is one of the most earth shattering poems
I have ever read. I, too was a bed wetter, my childhood was a horror story, and God, didn't this bring it all crashing back. such beautiful emotion, so unbelievably real. Doesn't it just make you want to scoop up the little girl and keep her safe. I give you thousands of Gold.
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An extremely intense bit of poetry! Congratulations on the Bronze.
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This made it to bronze despite a slant rhyme and meter being slightly less good than some of the HMs however the huge content and its beautifully subtle handling more than made up for the slight failings, even in a contest dedicated to rhyme and flow. Great poetry and keep the entries coming.
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This is horrifiying. It is well written. I absolutely makes me recoil in horror. This is an incredible story. Excellent.
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flawless, yet painful write. I love the rhyme and flow, yet it took me back in time. I too was a bedwetter and my father an alcoholic who was angry most of the time. My mother has hidden/washed many sheets to keep me from being punished. Though I sense in this write, this child suffers from more than just physical and mental abuse, I'm sure that many readers will relate on different levels. This is beautiful penning!
Blessings,
Sassy
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And I swallow pictures of God to make sure he lived inside...
What a great piece! Thanks for the read!!
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oh wow.
ever read a child called "it"?
it reminds me of that.
i like the ending.
good write& good luck in the contest
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almost bringing tears to my eyes, with a sad song on loud and a glass of wine to ease the senses, this was an intense read. Plainly said, this is the reality for many children, but I believe, from my experience, that these things in younger years, only make us stronger people in later life. Well written and good luck in the contest.
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Well impressed
A level addressing of evil by simply focussing on the victim with sensitivity, compassion and understanding.
A marvellous balance you've achieved here, yet without avoiding the very real effects of monstrously warped indulgence.
Excellent work Ros!
Sol
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Fantastic!
Unfortunately, I can relate to this sad
and horrific experience. I was a bed wetter
until I was ten years old. My father was
an abusive husband which left me traumatized
and scared for sometime. I realized later on
in life that it was the apprehension and
sadness that was responsible for my little
problem. Many children are caught in a web
of isolation and terror without a real voice.
This piece I hope will assure them that they
are not alone. Great work
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