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Style / Type: 
freeform

He beat my mother,
He beat my mind.
He beat my sister,
He beat my mind.
He beat me,
The memory I cannot find.

My mother screams,
I cry in vain.
My sister screams,
I cry in vain.
Into the pillow I would cry,
Wishing he would die.

He tortured me with words,
He made me want to die.
Then he laughed,
When I screamed and cried.

But it hurt even more,
When I saw my mother cry.
It hurts even more,
To see tears in my sisters eyes.
Into my pillow I would cry,
Wishing him to die.

31 January 1998
3.6
Average: 3.6 (5 votes)
Submitted by conect11 on 27 July 2007 - 7:52pm.

tortured

how does one comment on a poem like this? Is it art? No, pain is no art if it has happened to someone. It’s kind of like watching “The Passion of the Christ.” When someone comes up to you and asks “how was the movie?” you don’t say “I LOVED watching Jesus get pummeled by the Centurions” even though the movie was important, and well made. As for this poem I did like the off - kilter repetitive(sp?) rhyme structure and the raw emotion you put into it. Can’t wait to see some recent work and assess how you’ve developed your writing since.

Mark W.

Submitted by poet_inside on 27 July 2007 - 8:10pm.
poet_inside's picture

I can relate

I completely understand where you are comeing from there believe me, I just handled it all a different way pull the attention from others to myself, just for the fact like you said youu couldn’t stand to see the tears, couldn’t stand to see someone you loved in pain. Its hard to write these when they are true, very well done! Keep it up! With a pen and paper in hand it isa way to extend youself through words!!!
Brittany Rae

Submitted by RandomThoughts on 28 July 2007 - 6:27am.
RandomThoughts's picture

thanks for sharing

Such raw emotion. Simple. Outstanding poem. Very much loved this one. Deep and very powerful.