Walking Wounded
They are everywhere, the walking wounded,
Will they learn to heal their wounds?
Or will those wounds fester and ooze their poison,
Into society one way or another?
His mother has gone to prison for a year,
She's getting out today at noon.
Instead of his usual oversized t-shirt,
Today he is so handsome in a sweater.
His dad will pick him up early from school,
He can hardly wait.
But Tyler can't behave himself,
And gets suspended before his dad comes.
She has been molested from the age of two,
By a big brother then at least two step-fathers,
And now by another boy in school,
Who promised to be her boyfriend until "the incicdent."
And he is faced with the reality,
That his brother is also his uncle,
For his mother though married to his brother's dad,
Became pregnant by her husband's brother, his dad.
And she hasn't lived at home for a year,
At fourteen she lives in the home of her boyfriend,
So along with school, and homework, and make-up and her hair,
She must keep track of birth control and pregnancy,
And money, and bills and all kinds of grown-up stuff.
They are everywhere, the walking wounded,
Will they learn to heal their wounds?
Or will those wounds fester and ooze their poison,
Into society one way or another?
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But, I have also seen the other side and have watched as some of my own hurting children have broken free and are making their way to recovery. They are survivors and that is why we fight... you and I, in our different ways and different battles, to help the wounded heal. For when we see that light come on in their souls, and see them trying to stitch up the holes, repair the damage, reach out to someone else... it is then that we are rewarded.
Cryssa
fee
You write truth, and eye opening poetry. I love you for that.
Much peace, love and light,
Amber
Regis