My poems

Whimpers...

Whimpers of the small child

A boy cowering in the darkness

His nightmare awaits him

Not make-believe

But real

His child abuser

A young boy, does not deserve

to get his blood spilt

Or have glass carved into his flesh

As tears roll down silently

He cannot do anything

But he is a boy, is he not?

So how can he be helpless?

I laugh at you, at your stereotypical thoughts

He is no different from me and you

He is in pain, frozen with fear

But silent... nor daring to speak

And so he sleeps-

but sleep does not release him from his pain

He embraces darkness uneasily

As she hurts him in his dreams

He whimpers and cries out

But the world is deaf, oblivious

As the boy wakes up with a start

Tears rolling down

And then... he is caught

Caught for showing misery

Rightfully punished

By the sharp knives, cutting into his skin

But the pain is not as bad

As the pain in his heart

As it shatters, looking into the face of his child abuser

The face of his mother

How can such people exist?

To have satisfaction in others pain

They are not humans for they are savage

Brutal monsters, no worse than killers

And the victims are silent

Lost in their mourning...