I do not know about you but every time I watch the news and hear of another child suffering, I get really upset. It makes my heart physically ache. Lately the news has been filled with children having terrible things happen to them. It breaks my heart that there are children out there suffering so horribly. It makes me angry that there are people who are so ruthless, and have no understanding of what their actions can do. They ignore the fact that children deserve to be happy, that they have lives and that they need to be loved in a safe and comfortable way.
I have met people throughout my life who have had some awful experiences happen to them. I wrote this poem to show that even though the perpetrator may suffer for a short while, it is the victim who suffers in the long run. The memories created when they are younger, can and often do stay with them for the rest of their lives. When awful experiences occur they can control a person for years afterwards. I have seen it happen in the lives of people I know.
Memories do not fade
She walks along the busy high street,
body aching from the scorching heat.
She catches a glimpse of the man from her past,
And she remembers why she hides behind a mask.
She quickly turns, and wants to run,
but her body has frozen, she has become numb.
She loses her breath, she starts to panic,
anger quickly rising, heart beating so manic.
Silently she prays that he has not seen,
she has to move but her body is not keen.
She has to go, she needs to hide,
but her feet are stuck, and she starts to cry.
She cannot face him, not now, not ever,
he was so proud, thought he was so clever.
He broke her heart, destroyed her life,
knocked her down, and created much strife.
He notices her, standing there,
he knew her once, but he was unfair.
He made her suffer, pretended he cared,
she often cried but this went unheard.
She was naïve, she was unaware,
She thought it was love, thought it was care.
But she grew older, and she grew wise,
she learnt that his words where nothing but lies.
She found her voice, and screamed so clear,
she told of the pain, and also the fear.
She took back her life, and fought with all she had,
and he was finally punished for making her sad.
That is not the end; the memories do not fade,
they cut her up, as if they were a blade.
They will remain, until the day she dies,
they will often creep back in from different sides.
So do not judge her, when she gets sad,
do not get angry, when she becomes mad.
Let her cry, and allow her to vent,
help her be happy, help her be content.