Poems about The Voice for Others

I’m tired.
Leave me by the hospital doors,
No looking back.
Avoid my eyes,
Don’t hear my pain.

No more need to measure my worth with your measuring cups.
Give back my love before you go,
Should I try to build it again.

I’m tired,
My Dragon Lady, burning it all down.
Nowhere to anchor
So much haze

She’s so small,
She doesn’t know where to go, what to do.
Wishes she didn’t survive
This life not worth living

She can’t feel with half a heart,
Or navigate your rules.
Don’t take the chance,
She’s not safe for you.

Cover her eyes
Shut her mouth
Plug your ears
She can’t run with numb legs
Her cries won’t stop
Leave it all at the hospital doors

Save yourself
Wash your hands
Take your broken heart.

Come join me,
In the dark.
I’ll make room for you,
Wake up your body,
Open your heart.
I’ll swallow your pain,
The poison I deserve.
It can’t kill me,
I am already dead.

A Crack Appears

I am all armoured up

Keeping in check, taking my stance
defenses in place, doing my dance
I am all armoured up

Facing forward, controlling the chills
sensitivities heightened, sharpening my skills
I am all armoured up

As the cries get louder, the bars grow taller
deafening shrills, sharpening my skills
I am all armoured up

Breaking free, merely a dream
on high alert, my insides scream
Covering my tracks, polishing my rackets
the boxes stay shut, covering my casket
I am all armoured up

Never giving up,
today is the day the crack appears

Duplex III: Be Quiet

Be quiet; the voice doesn’t belong here,
Only the body turned into piñata.

Your body made into a piñata.
Boys swing their sticks, breaking things not theirs.

Boys hit you with their sticks, breaking things not theirs.
Innocence falls, swallowed up by night.

Fallen innocence, swallowed by night.
Candy wrappers are clothes, no room for names.

Candy wrappers for clothes. Who cares about names?
Boys gnaw on silent sugary screams.

Boys’ teeth dig into sugary screams.
Confectionery prey, looking for sound.

Confectionery, pray, can’t find sound,
Only the body turned into piñata.

Copyright ©️ 2024

Please don't turn out the light, don't let the darkness fall,
For then I'll hear his footsteps treading down the hall.
Please don't turn out the light, I want to wait awhile,
For he is oh so big and strong
And I am just a child.
Please don't turn out the light,I'm not ready for the pain,
I think I hear his footsteps
Yes, here he comes again.
Please don't turn out the light, just wait and let me sleep
Amongst the stars where I'll ask God "I pray my soul to keep."

A constant dark cloud looms over my head.

Everyone tells me to forgive and forget. How do I do that when my childhood and innocence were stolen from me? I become an adult before I was able to be a child.

I cry but no tears.
I am in pain though no ones notices.

Alone all the time in my mind.

Once the abuse happened, the secret followed me like a dark shadow.

I go through the motions of life. What an unhappy and angry existence like being trapped down among the dead men in that dark deep hole.

Arises a twinkle of light.
Come down light in the night.
What’s it like in the light?

When all I do is walk in the rain.
Cold and lonely.
Wasted days.
Wasted years.
It really feels like hell.

Done my time in hell!
Done my time feeling out of place.
The walls are coming down.
My awakening beckons to me.
With help, my journey from the darkness begins.
It won’t be easy, but better than it was.

Robert McDonald, Uxbridge Canada

The Strength & Power of Whispers

You are no longer alone
My brave soul
Breathe

With a nod
I acknowledge your courage
Your expressive truth
Your knowing

For the experiential quilt of words your authenticity brings
I am grateful

"Beyond your breath your whisper is knowing, brave and courageous. You opened up your soul, authenticity and the truth. You showed your strength and beauty and you are no longer alone."
(Author- Stefan (group facilitator at The Gatehouse)

Exploitation is a smoking gun,
Stealing choices from our young.
It shoots at futures, leaving them dead.
Like bullets, grooming rattles through heads.

Exploitation is a blade thrusting deep,
Murdering families as grief steals sleep.
It uses tactics like pressure and threats,
Pushing gifts & drugs to create “work debts”.

Exploitation is a social media disease,
Using platforms to “recruit” with ease.
It fakes aspects of life to trick and coerce,
Making alternatives seem weak or worse.

Exploitation is lurking by shops and schools,
Dangling temptation to follow new “rules”.
It offers to help with what kids might want,
Sucking them in with status or front.

Exploitation is at first a friendly disguise,
As kids look in with innocent eyes.
It picks at any child’s perceived weakness,
Offering fake futures away from life’s “bleakness”.

Exploitation is a destroyer of homes,
Forcing kids “Out There” to “Carry” and roam.
It plugs inside children – just like drug wraps,
Abandoned to fend-off rival attacks.

Exploitation is bribery then assault,
Hurting and beating to get a “result”.
It brands and degrades to destroy any bravery,
Entrenching children in modern slavery.