Global
Poetry
Movement

Abused ; Aftermath

In the darkness of the night
Eyes moistened by the insight
Of a life of failed resolutions
And social aberrations
Which I continue to gaslight

I find so deep a sorrow
In knowing that tomorrow
In my weakness of determination
In my perpetual stagnation
I may again burrow

Into a hole of avoidance
A cavern of acceptance
Only to feel an utter emptiness
And sense of absurdness
That seems my life’s dance

And I ask … why?

Dana

A Flower’s Tale

Wasted Nights,
Wasted Days,
Oh my time!
Wasted away.

Sitting still,
Atop a hill.
Sitting quiet,
In a dress so white.

Beads of water upon my head,
Beads of water trickling down my face.
Glistening as it touches my foot,
Then lies glistening; on grass, on wood.

Then a cruel hand picks me off,
Then carries me in clasped hands, so gruff!
All while I’m screaming of pain,
Of hurt and grief; no longer sane.

Then put me in a shallow vase,
Filled with water, made of glass.
My crumbling carcass writhes in pain,
All my cries are but in vain.
I have nothing more to gain,
All my hopes have now been slain.

Slain before I could grow old,
Slain before I could be bold,
Slain before I could live life,
Slain before I went through strife.

Now while I wait; awaiting death,
Waiting for the sun to set,
To cast a shadow on my collapsed form;
Born in solitude; in solitude gone.

I think of all my wasted time,
Wasted Days and Wasted Nights.
I really did want to live life,
Yet I’ll be gone with no great fights.

By RAIMA GHOSH

Spark

I have walked a lonely road, I say,
It was dark and joy free.
I’ve never been happy, hoping or gay,
Because I never could see.

I was blind. Oh yes, I was blind I say,
Withering away in the dark.
I never realized my blessings till that day,
When there was a sudden spark.

In my life, I have seen things,
Which many fear to witness.
Sometimes I thought myself Lord of the World,
Without any guilt or meekness.

And yet I fell from those stairs,
That lead up to the throne of fame.
But still I did not beg pardon,
As I could not have borne the shame.

And as my sorrow clasped me tight,
Though I struggled with all my might,
I could not but feel depressed,
And stumbled on, along my fate.

It was that time, when he came,
But not as a bright ball of flame,
And yet the spark he caused, left its mark,
Buried deep upon my chest.

I was walking aimlessly,
Hopelessly and heartlessly.
When I saw him sitting there,
Holding a child, crying helplessly.

I crouched down beside him,
And asked what the matter was,
His answer occurred to me,
As quite; a terrible loss.

He said he was of nowhere,
He had nowhere to go,
He showed me the child; his only brother,
Would be dead by tomorrow.

I tried to offer him assistance,
And wash away his tears,
But he begged me to stop doing so,
That he could cry away his cares.

He cried on so grievously,
That I was quite astonished to see,
Him smiling through his tears,
And looking towards me.

“My dear friend” he said,
“You think me sad like you,
But I will carve my way out,
And pass happily through.”

“I have lost much; and death will come,
But I fear it not,
For it will take me to a place,
Where I will find; the ones I have lost.”

“You do not see your gifts,
So you weep and mourn.
If you see what blessings you have,
You will; find the road easy to wander upon.”

With these words; he got up,
And clutched the child tight in his arms.
And walked on wherever the road led,
Whether to the river side, or to the sun lit farms.

From that day, I’ve learnt my lesson,
And even now, I walk the road,
But no longer can I call it,
What I had called it so long before.

By :
RAIMA GHOSH

So happy to know my emotions.
My guilt is in yellow and
Shows me proaction.
My envy looks pink and
Gives me promotion.
My shyness discovers
All hidden emotions.

PS: Toxic and ruddiness
Are parts of frustration.
Love and respect
Are parts of creation.

Still Born

No sounds of laughter
No sounds of Joy
No glimmer of hope
Wondering if it is a girl or a boy

Slap! Don’t you dare make a sound
Slap! Don’t you cry
Slap! Lay still on the ground

My eyes were open
But I could not see
My mouth wide open
But I could make no sound

Still. I lay on the ground

Mother, I’m home. It’s me
Can’t you see?
Father, I’m home. It’s me
Can’t you tell?

See me again
Hear my voice
It’s still me but I’ve changed. I am sorry
This was not my choice

To the Son in Me

I was once like you
Shiny, happy and new
The world in front of me
Places to visit, things to do

Don’t rush to get there
Your day will come
This life is happiness, freedom and fun
Enjoy your childhood, you only get one

Run in the fields, swim in the pool
Make many friends, do well in school
Stay out of danger, be wise and shrewd
Show kindness to others, never be rude

And if darkness comes, be brave and strong
Don’t be fooled by his words it’s part of the charm
To lure you in to his lion’s den
Where all alone the harm will begin

It will hide behind a mask
Like an actor on stage
Singing words of promises, pleasure, and praise
But stare into its eyes and you will see
Emptiness and rage, a life of disgrace

When in need
Know that I am here
Do not be ashamed or embarrassed
Do not have any fear

I will not pass judgment
No aim to punish or to scold
Instead to listen
To guide and to hold

I am your father
This is my job
Your life is my life
And this, I will never allow anyone to rob

For in you I see me
Within me there is you
Inseparable, forever one
Like father and son

A Kid Of Three

The man was busy again, like an eight legged thing,
the better to clutch, in sickness and dying, in a
grimace, in a motion that tears down the world from east to west,
and stops only to refill what is spent in more horrid darkness
from inside his heart and mind. Until the man sees blood, he
is not fulfilled. Who the kid is doesn’t matter, not on any
account, not in particulars, not in general. And the kid got it,
but he could conclude nothing - three years of living is no
match for a monstrous touch. Cowards show up in lies and deceit,
and a kid of three knows something we don’t know.

MY RIGHTS

I have every right to feel the pain of what I went through
I have every right to say I should not have gone through these experiences

I have every right to still feel the afflictions of what I endured for years

I have every right to say it was never my fault to begin with
I have every right to say I was placed in a toxic and abusive environment

I have every right to express fully that not everything happens for a reason

I have every right to say I could not learn from certain experiences because those experiences should not have been lessons to have learned from

To me, that just sounds condoning, neglectful and invalidating

What happened to me is real
What they did was not okay

I have every right to shed my tears
I have every right to sniffle and frown

To break into pieces
To hate and be angry

I owe myself the self-validation I never once received from my so-called family

I deserve to not want to forgive
To not be pressured or made to feel guilty for not wanting to forgive

I deserve to do what feels best for me
Even if it differentiates from other people's perceptions

It is not about anyone but me

I am fed up with listening to others but disregarding myself
I am tired of putting myself in convos where my experiences are belittled

I was gravely abused throughout childhood, and it has been affecting me to this day

This I will admit
This I will not be afraid to admit

This I will stop feeling shame for
My inner child deserves to be heard, believed, understood and acknowledged

I will be the one to continue giving her that
For what she battled, no one will ever understand

Except herself and her Originator
Plus, the very few people on planet Earth who actually care about the hard things the rest of humanity are too prideful to speak about

—the end 💔

She slices her flesh to feel alive,
She feels useless until blood flows from her vains.
Her screams of anguish fall on unhearing ears.
Her pain will never be cured.

They try to know her pain but they never see the real pain,
Years of hurt fall from her eyes as she sleeps.
Her sobs unheard by society,
People see her smile when inside she is hallow.

There is one permant cure for her,
When she sees that pure black she will smile.
All the heartache of years ended by one slice too many.
People cry for they finally understand her pain.

Lying there lifeless she sleeps peacefully,
She now dreams of pure happiness.
Without second thought she doesn't appologise for her leaving,
For it brought her to rest.

Blood on the ground,
Smile apon her lips,
She embraced death with open arms.
Her heart lighter then its been in years.

She says don't cry for me for I am without pain,
Don't cry for me for I am now happy,
Don't cry for the life I left behind,
Don't cry for me.

Cry for the society that caused this.
Cry for the ones unnoticed.
Cry for the ones unheard.
Cry for the ones still in pain and crying every night.

This poem is for all the people out there that Hide behind fake smiles.