NEGLECT .. H'work for w/e 28.3.16
Posted: Mon Mar 14, 2016 10:44 am
NEGLECT ... Maureen Clifford © The #ScribblyBark Poet
He heard a whisper in the silence getting louder, getting bold,
fingers of memory probed his brain. For what? For when? Untold
memories surfaced, and he was a young and helpless child again.
A child who hid beneath the sheets
A child who life wears down, browbeats
A child who knows lies and deceits - whose life is full of pain.
He found the heart of darkness kind - for darkness hid his tears.
In darkness he could hide away unnoticed, cloak his fears
and cobweb skin with bruises traced in yellow, puce and black.
He was a child who knew the streets,
the haunts and hangouts of deadbeats;
the alleys rank, where danger lurked and no one had his back.
The mind's eye makes a difference to those broken souls we see.
One small boy saw the white sails of a small skiff running free
on ocean waves, where orca's and grey dolphins leapt and played;
a deep place, where beneath his feet
stood Neptune's halls from ancient Crete,
gold pirate treasure - trick or treat... 'twas just his mind's charade.
A child who knows lies and deceits - whose life is full of pain
is one who could give up and turn to crime. Who would we blame?
But fair to say not all will fail - some made of sterner stuff
will always try to overcome
what life dished out - break away from
iniquities, and with aplomb their poverty rebuff.
I knew a man like that and yes, I viewed him with respect,
a vocal and outspoken man, well versed in child-neglect.
He heard a whisper in the silence getting louder, getting bold,
fingers of memory probed his brain. For what? For when? Untold
memories surfaced, and he was a young and helpless child again.
A child who hid beneath the sheets
A child who life wears down, browbeats
A child who knows lies and deceits - whose life is full of pain.
He found the heart of darkness kind - for darkness hid his tears.
In darkness he could hide away unnoticed, cloak his fears
and cobweb skin with bruises traced in yellow, puce and black.
He was a child who knew the streets,
the haunts and hangouts of deadbeats;
the alleys rank, where danger lurked and no one had his back.
The mind's eye makes a difference to those broken souls we see.
One small boy saw the white sails of a small skiff running free
on ocean waves, where orca's and grey dolphins leapt and played;
a deep place, where beneath his feet
stood Neptune's halls from ancient Crete,
gold pirate treasure - trick or treat... 'twas just his mind's charade.
A child who knows lies and deceits - whose life is full of pain
is one who could give up and turn to crime. Who would we blame?
But fair to say not all will fail - some made of sterner stuff
will always try to overcome
what life dished out - break away from
iniquities, and with aplomb their poverty rebuff.
I knew a man like that and yes, I viewed him with respect,
a vocal and outspoken man, well versed in child-neglect.