When Innocence Bleeds

innocence from Harry Hartanto flickr.com
innocence from Harry Hartanto flickr.com
Judgement from David Kessler flickr.com
Judgement from David Kessler flickr.com
She walks alone from Flavio Spugna flickr.com
She walks alone from Flavio Spugna flickr.com
Purple Wildflower from Julia Clark flickr.com
Purple Wildflower from Julia Clark flickr.com
Hope from waqar bukhari flickr.com
Hope from waqar bukhari flickr.com

When Innocence Bleeds

By Tony DeLorger © 2103


She walks in a shallow trench,

amid the festered streets of home,

lower than the common folk,

the false faces of denial

that judge a fallen wretch.


And she sees not their doom,

instead believes her falling just,

for men have tainted all she knows,

with vile lust and ignorance.


Still she walks alone,

pierced by poison darts,

their sting a reminded of a defiled life,

innocence torn from will,

the prospect of love a distant dream.


Those stares, cold and hard,

keep her in that trench,

with women scorn, lascivious men besmirch,

she clenches eyes, pleading nightmares,

but on it goes, that judgement,

and her heart aches for freedom.


A child stops before her, smile broad,

and hands her a purple wild flower,

and she takes it, confused,

as the child skips on to pleasured, innocent youth.


It's petals glisten with morning dew,

new, alive,

and gives her hope, a lightness of heart,

that rarely appears,

and she walks on, basket in hand,

to survive another day,

the weight of the world just a little less.


Judgement is simply the lack of understanding, because what we judge is more often something we have already or will endure in life. Knowing this changes perspective.

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