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July 25, 2005

Childhood Weekends

Seconds drag on,
minutes eek by,
hours pass at tortoised pace.

Solitary in this self-made prison,
locked in a room, he would cry,
lamenting childhood emotional disgrace.

Torn and belittled he did
pray for rescue from this hell,
dread overcoming every ragged breath.

Rages, cutting words never left unsaid,
actions best left not to tell,
leaving shattered remnants wishing for death.

What did he do to deserve this unjust lot,
repeated again and again, week on end,
with not a choice in the matter at all.

None care to listen, not to this little sot,
broken inside, of skewed mental bend,
ignoring the victim's call.

Posted by Ravennacht at July 25, 2005 11:10 PM Posted to Prose and Poetry