Silken skin, flinching to the beat
of harsh tones and words remembered.
Childhood conditioning , you can't compete.
Years of negative images rendered.
Her heart broken, and spirit surrendered.
No rewind, erase, or publishing edit.
Destroyed by parents who just don't get it.
Imperfect attempts to raise them right.
Respect and honor, words often spoken
but with no definition, or insight.
Demanding a facade, a wrested token
from perfection flawed and broken.
Innocents standing on ancestral err,
locked in memories, living solitaire.
Author notes
Quote #1
A contest entry
- Torn by Pamela A Lamppa.
1750 points, ended August 20, 2008, 13 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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You have written quite well to the given prompt and your message is loud and clear.
As for Rhyme Royal, you did fall out of syllable count in many places which doesn't comply with the form specs of 7 ten syllable lines.
A good attempt and I do hope you will tweak this one and try a few others. Thank you for your entry and best of luck in the judging. ~Pamela
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Yes, parents have the power to mold and shape their children, save for those things inherited through genetics. There are some things that we never outgrow, sadly. Very thoughtful poem.
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