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Realizations through Poetry
Rape Breaks the Pride of Angels
‘Help me!’ She tries to say, yet the words are trapped inside,
too scared to even whisper. ‘My dear, why do you hide?’
Across her fragile body, the jagged scars all show
yet she says nothing. ‘You’re hurt, is that not so?’
She looks at me with pale blue eyes, the emptiness shines bright.
Yet the yearning for help appears brighter than the night.
‘Why do you not speak out, my love?’ She turns her head away.
I know inside she’s screaming, yet nothing does she say.
Her clothes are torn and tattered, the tears dried on her face.
In her hand a fragment of material, a now brown piece of lace.
She grasps it tight in her dirty hand, ‘My mom’ she manages to say.
She must have grabbed the lace as ‘he’ took her away.
This glitter of broken hope curls up in front of me.
I’m watching her drowning in this silent-tortured sea.
‘Give me your hand my love, I’ll help you win this fight.
Please, I can help you. I’ll lead you to the light!’
How could he have done that? He’s taken all her pride
and left her soul-dead, thrown her to the side.
She slowly reaches out, I gently take her hand
and slowly pull her up, help her take a stand.
‘We will bring him to justice. He won’t do this again.
His reign of rape is over, he has come to an end.’
For the first time in forever her lips twist to a smile.
‘Yes, my dear, it’s over. Leave all this torture behind.’
Just as the clouds conceal the sky, temptations cloud our thoughts
About this hub
In this hub I will be posting poetry about some of the challenges we face in our lives. Although these poems don't give any facts on the topics, they are there to inform people about the certain topics in a creative and beautiful way.
They make people think about what they have just read and are left with this long lasting feeling of awe. Even though the topics are sensitive, the poetry leaves the reader wanting to read more. If there are any topics you would like to see appear on this hub, feel free to mention it in a comment.
Every cloud has a silver lining
Scratches on Our Knights Shining Armour
‘I don’t know what to do.’ He breaks down and cries
so strong was he before, now he can barely rise.
I gently touch his head and wrap my arms around his neck.
He’s shaking from the tears, I’ve never seen him in such a wreck.
He pretends to be okay, he pretends all things are fine
but now he’s opened up, his problems undermined.
‘I’m right here if you need me. I’m always going to stay.’
Unlike all those other people who left him. They’ve all gone away.
‘I know you will get through this, it doesn’t matter how long it takes.
And I’ll help you every step of the way. I know how much you ache.’
His breathing starts to slow and the shaking calms down.
I gently stroke his hair as he looks up with a frown.
‘How is it that you stay with me? You have problems of your own,
so many others suffer from being all alone.
Why is it that you stay with me? I have nothing left to clutch
I’m just a normal human being. I don’t deserve this much.’
He looks at me with empty eyes. I see he has no hope.
I often wonder how so many other people cope.
‘You do deserve this caring, you do deserve this love,
You need to find your faith again, you need to look above.
I will be here to help you even though I have problems too,
my problems shouldn’t matter when I want to help you.
And one day you too will realise the best thing that you will see
by me helping you, I am finally helping me.
We all need to learn we can’t live life alone,
currently all we care about is ourselves. On our own.
That’s going to get us nowhere, it’s going to make things worse.
People are so wrapped up in this selfish little curse.’
He puts his arms around me and holds me oh so tight.
And in silence we sit. In the first sight of the light.
A rose by any other name would smell as sweet (Shakespeare)
Do you think poetry can help introduce certain topics in a softer way than hard facts?
A Sonnet to the Broken World
Amongst the tangled thorns and dripping poison depicting death,
there lies pure beauty: beauty that’s dying with each breath.
Petals of pure scarlet, more intense than blood
with even purer happiness hidden in the depths of the bud.
The golden dust of magic, the little wonders that make our smiles
Meant to be shared among the nation. A love-filled fragrance smelt for miles.
The bees pick up the pollen to share with the flowers they touch.
But now due to thorns and poison, they can’t share that love too much.
Shrouded in a toil of danger, nostalgia for the sun.
The little fragile scarlet rose is the very last one.
The stems that once raised them, those brilliant balls of red,
are now the reason they wilt; the reason all happiness is dead.
Masked in pain and suffering, the beauty of the scarlet rose is found
both choked and protected by the vines with which it’s bound.