|
THE HORROW OF IT ALLDale Hudgins Copyright 2003All rights reserved.No part of this poem may be reproduced in any form without written consent of the author.Soft knock at the door, sound of you climbing in,The revulsion of your touch,My eyes tightly shut, the night began,Like a red, hot fire poker, the walls of pain,I told no one, fear and shame,It’s my fault, I would be told,So, rather than face the shame, I chose instead,To endure, your pain, the horror of it all,Who would be there, when needed the most,Crumbling, cracking, inside, I’m at a loss,Night after night, you carried on,My childhood is lost, the innocence is gone,Years have passed, the memory of you, not faded,Even when in the ground, at my feet you lie.
|
~Nikki~
P.S. He who would ever touch my little miracle could never run harder, faster or far enough!