Heartaches come and go
Heartaches come and go
wounds that are left behind
scars the face of our life
every time!
One by one
they come out every month
scriptures and scribbles
tatooed upon the chest
of some daddy's little girl
Forced into the darkness,
of a cold and damp street
scorned out of her childhood
by a guardian of her life
Hard as a stone, she is
Covered with this indelible art
That sit's upon her heart
Like an eternal scar
Her body is covered in it
She tries to hide behind it
The shame of her livelihood
Her innocence and her screams
Her childhood and her dreams
Are still so very real
Safely stored behind
The façade of her being
Nick Kler
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Abused Child
Childhood itself
Big wound!
Wound covers
Slap of a father,
Bite of a sibling,
Curse of a mother,
and finally treacherous teacher!
My childhood crawled
under serpent-hood!
No joyful moments
Only scars registered in the soul!
Childhood swayed by youth,
Enthusiastic path to new strength,
Childhood mistakes haunted the youth,
Irritable emotion creates wrath!
As there is no ray of hope,
Youth led to astray
Trapped in easy money!
Fighting with peers for livelihood,
Waiting for love at neighbourhood,
Dreaming to become rich,
Struggling inch by inch,
facing crunch after crunch,
Dreams shattered and happiness slashed
Stood on the fate’s pedestal!
Unknown mistake
finally pushed me to jail!
Justice delayed,
Life is under trial
Wounds mounting
Time never heals all injuries
Time intensifies wounds
Wound ….. Wound..
Wound comes round and round
Life has no re- wind!
Life sinks in dark abyss
poem by Mula Veereswara Rao
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Sign Here, Please:
At 43 my body is a twisted wreckage of scar tissue.
Most of them are from people I know or knew.
Cigarette burns (many of them) ,
Knife slices,
A large cut left by a pair of scissors wielded by a crazy girl I dated,
Claw marks on my back, sex scars, another crazy girl with 'lee press on talons'.
My teeth were knocked out in a few fights (over women and heroin) .
I now wear dentures.
There is a one from being hit with a frying pan in the head
I don't care how funny it is in Looney Toons,
that shit HURT.. and bled like a virgin sacrifice.
There are the scars from childhood clumsiness
(Falling down stairs and the like)
I have a huge scar on my right thigh...
a blowtorch my dad used to teach me that men don't cry
(I still can't, it worked)
'Sex and pain form flesh identity' Burroughs wrote.
My body is an autograph book.
Many, many, people have signed it,
and I remember them all.
I also have tattoos and piercings,
I remember who did those as well but they lack the emotional honesty of the others.
A friend recently told me
'Nothing is more honest than a punch in the face'
I had to nod in agreement...
While I am covered in scars (many, many scars) .
I have to admit,
they are all honest.
Funny thing is, I wouldn't trade them,
they are stories,
they are my stories made flesh.
They are me
and the people who put them there,
they are also, in a very literal way, they are me as well.
poem by Brevet Wilson
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For Many Life Is A Hard Battle
For many life is a hard battle but most rise again after a fall
And from life babies do begin learning long before they learn how to crawl
It would be nice to stay innocent for a lifetime but the innocence of childhood doesn't last
The years seem to go by so quickly and time as we know ticks on fast
'Tis sad to think some children have their innocence from them stolen and are exploited in the worst possible way
That they cannot look back on a happy childhood does seem so sad to have to say
The crimes committed against children are not easy crimes to forgive
Those guilty of such terrible atrocities with their shame must find it hard to live
I consider myself to be lucky my childhood years I did enjoy
Compared to many I feel privileged I did enjoy life as a boy
In the green countryside west of Millstreet where I grew into a young man
I learned about life from my mentors and my enduring love of Nature began
For so many life is a hard battle and they've never known of happy years
And they must live with their haunting memories of their unhappy childhood years.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Childhood Memories Sung to the Tune of Shawnee West Franklin Bison Blues
Some people have a childhood garden
Filled with green and growing things
Some people have a childhood garden
Filled with purple peonies
Mine is sere
Throughout the year
Nothing grows here
Some people have a childhood rainbow
A sea of colors all aglow
Some people have a childhood rainbow
Red to violet in a row
Mine is gray
Bow of clay
Without a ray
Some people have a childhood temple
Covered with a million treasured dreams
Some people have a childhood temple
A sunny Wat of Gods and kings
Mine is plain
Squats in the rain
Functional 'n sane
Where childhood memories abound
Life flows vividly around
Where childhood memories have fled
Hearts lie dead
Why Do Children Want To Grow
Why do Children
of now adays
Want to grow so fast
to look grown up
to think grown up
But still be a child at heart
I would live my childhood
OVER again just to be a child
to have pure heart
Pure minds, pure dreams
Instead of a childhood of distain
To play without a care
And see the magic of Mother Nature
And use imagination
To dance on rainbows
And white fluffy clouds
To play hide and seek
In the candy land of our dreams
To ride on unicorns
And sprinkle fair dust
To take a flight in
A midsummer dream
Why would children of today
Pass all this by
Just to be grown up
In a world like ours
Why lose the innocence
Of childhood sweet dreams
Just to rush into
The uncertainty of life
Why bypass your childhood
Just to be an adult of today
only to yearn the loss
of you childhood of yesterday
poem by Kaila George
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Let Not
let not the tears in your eyes
be of my death my love ones
but of words left unsaid
stuff left undone
and love left unportraied
let not those simple i love you's
go to waste cause life is short
and allow not the brewing war
to put a damp on your smile
but may it spark a revolution
for a growing civilization
let not the scars on the body
be the wounds on your heart
for it what hurt the soul we should
worry about as the pysical wound
heal with time as the mental scars
last a life time
poem by Robert Roberts
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Deep down in the darkness.
Way down deep deep in the darkness.
A broken soul does lie all alone.
Alone and near beaten.
She's is frightened and alone.
But tries to face the world alone.
But deep down in the darkness she cant make it on her own.
She is destined to be alone.
Deep down in the darkness she sits in her corner.
Her body covered in scars it's the only way for her to feel alive.
The cuts and scars they run so much deeper.
Deeper in to her broken fragile soul.
She has no goals.
Deep down in the darkness,
She knows she can not win this fight.
It's all been show to her.
Like a present of the future.
She can not win she can only lose.
Deep down her darkness,
She's all alone coping on her own.
She cannot win only lose.
Deep ibn the darkness of the guttet,
Lays the broken girl with her broken soul.
May she have eternal rest.
poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
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Christmas In Lisnaboy
Memories of a childhood Christmas for a lifetime we enjoy
And I often recall Christmas as a child in Lisnaboy
Santa left his bag of presents by the porch door in the moonlight
When the air was damp and frosty on the eve of Christmas Night
In Uncle Dan and Aunty Mary's house of here far north and far away
We enjoyed the ham and turkey and pudding on Christmas Day
But the years went by so quickly and time has left me looking gray
And the biological clock on my life silently ticking away
Weeks before Christmas we wondered what toys Santa to us would bring
The innocence of childhood it is a marvellous thing,
The Seasons go so quickly and the past forever gone
But the happy times from childhood in the memory living on
Uncle Dan and Aunty Mary in eternal rest now lay
But they come into my memory on the eve of Christmas Day.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Never could you hide from...
1. Never could you hide from
Years, passed in turn.
Childhood is left for
Adult's life by all.
R.: But the school desk
I'm dreaming,
And the school books
I'm reading,
I remember all the teachers
One by one.
And the freckled girl is crying
From my childhood, when I'm
Trying to recall in mind the old time.
2. If you know, the childs
Try to grow fast,
Being in hurry
Turn to man, at last.
R.
3. We feel being tighted
In the golden age,
But we long for childhood,
When it comes to end.
R.
song, translated by Lyudmila Purgina
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Frozen Buds
Frozen buds are born into the world of blood and hate
They fall day by day
Caught up in the storm of rages.
Young lives are wrecked
Childhood is turned into cold hate
Guns are thrust into small hands
Innocent tears run down dusty cheeks
The tears of a newborn child run into rivers of blood.
They are forced to hate
Forced to kill
Forced to sacrifice their life for something they do not understand.
Many childhood years were cut short.
Their childhood was frozen
Wrecked from the start of their lives.
Innocence to anger
Toys to guns
Guns to kill
They do not deserve this life.
Where is human kindness?
Forever fearing
Forever scarred
Frozen buds live to drown in a never ending hate which was never theirs.
poem by Natasha Kirke
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When Children Lose Their Innocence
The innocence of childhood it is a marvellous thing
And all children are untainted in their life's early Spring
But by the time they've reached their teens their innocence they've lost
And the experience that we gain from age always comes at a cost.
When children lose their innocence they lose their gift of joy
The joy that comes from innocence in every young girl and boy
Compared to us young children see life quite differently
Of the guilt of corruption they are completely free.
I have such happy memories of when I was a boy
My childhood years were happy years but time just seemed to fly
And the experience that I've gained from life it came at a great cost
For I lost something beautiful when innocence I lost.
poem by Francis Duggan
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When My Childhood Dies
You see it in the my eyes,
The walls are built up on me.
Delightness will replaced my guiltiness,
When my childhood dies.
Afraid to show surprising face because of my shame of be young and dumb.
It's best to hold your tongue,
When my childhood dies.
Uniqueness deemed unwisely on
One’s life must it fit in.
And wear a different skin,
When my childhood dies.
Behind adult disguise,
A too tight gown.
All naturalness shut down,
When my childhood dies.
You see it in the eyes,
At nine or eight.
Before, if that's their fate,
When my childhood dies soon.
poem by Evevona Plummer
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Children Of The Heart
Have you ever left?
Your childhood alone
Have you ever let?
Your childhood dreams go
I've never really known
The joys a child should know
I've never really seen
What it's like to just being a child
But in each of us there lies
A child breaking to be free
To learn life's mysteries
In child like dream
To run with friends and family
Free just like a breeze
To play in the fields
Of a childhood memory's
What is it really like?
To be a warrior of old
What is it really like?
To be innocent in ones life
What is it really like?
To be a hero in a child's dream
I sigh and often dream
What it would be like to be free
Free of all your burdens
In a child's innocent world
Of dreams
Can you explain to me?
What the mystery a child hold's
Why do we crave
Our childhood of old
I smile and think often
Deep inside my soul
There will always be a child
Bursting forth to be free
Just wanting to let go
There will always be a child
Wanting all their dreams
To fly into a world of fantasy's
And just being free
Smiling softly to myself
I close my eyes and dream
Of when I was a little girl
Reliving all my dreams
poem by Kaila George
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Innocence was stolen
You stolen my innocence
As a young child
The painful memories
Filled my childhood with
Tears, hurt, and pain
The unbearable pain
The hurt
You put me though
You lost nothing
You gain power
I lose my innocence
Lost my life
Lost my happiness
Gain nothing but pain
My childhood forgotten
My childhood lost
My childhood stolen by a man
that was my moms friend
You voilatd me
You molesed me
More then I can count on my hands and feet
You took the innocents out of the child
And left pain
poem by Tiffany Johnson
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Darkness
Been spending so much time underground
I guess my eyes adjusted
To the lack of light
I got
Covered in darkness
Covered in darkness
Hibernating always waiting for something new
Happiness always endin'
In the blink of an eye
There was no one attending
No one attending
It doesn't really matter where it all began
All I know
I got covered in darkness
Covered in darkness
Ever wonder why I never really truly connect
Although my eyes are open
I can hold your gaze
But I am never connected
Never connected
I am famous for my generosity
They say I am the kindest
But it is easier to
Give than receive love
Give than receive love
It doesn't really matter where it all began
All I know
I was covered in darkness
Covered in darkness
Turning pages over
Run away to nowhere
And it's hard to take control
When your enemy's old and afraid of you
You'll discover that the monster you were running from
Is the monster in you
Better to hold on to love
Better to hold on to love
Change will come
It doesn't really matter where it all began
All I know
I was covered in darkness
Covered in darkness
It doesn't really matter where it all began
Cuz all I know
I was lost
I was lost
No, no
It doesn't really matter where it all began no no
All I know
I was lost
I feel lost
Lost
No...
song performed by by Darren Hayes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I look through my childhood
I look through my childhood as if I were there,
but yet remain in this grown up body, which in life is not fair,
I have forgotten the good times in my past,
I can't believe that my childhood moved on very fast,
I thought it would last, and last forever,
but I was wrong, it did not last, it never.
but all happens for the best,
so that I could grow up to be a man and experience life
which comes in han 'd'.
I look through my childhood.
poem by Savio Vogt
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Dreams And Ghosts
the dreams
of the heart
the dreams
of the mind
change and pass
with time
throughout the span
of a lifetime
many dreams
will come and go
but some dream
like childhood
quality must be
kept and preserved
from childhood
for this is perpetual
renewal of creativity
this deep solace
sustains aspiring soul
with hope filled
love renewing life
with new dreams
to inspire to grasp
to share eternally
the hard hearted
are played out
lost broken upon
twisted memories
dreams long dead
life expired withered
dead to deep feeling
which sustains life
the dead of heart
live only in shadows
of yesterday’s hope
ghost haunting
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Ghosts of Dreams
We are all of us dreamers of dreams,
On visions our childhood is fed;
And the heart of a child is unhaunted, it seems,
By ghosts of dreams that are dead.
From childhood to youth's but a span,
And the years of our life are soon sped;
But the youth is no longer a youth, but a man,
When the first of his dreams is dead.
'Tis a cup of wormwood and gall,
When the doom of a great man is said;
And the best of a man is under a pall
When the best of his dreams is dead.
He may live on by compact and plan
When the fine bloom of living is shed,
But God pity the little that's left of a man
When most of his dreams are dead.
Let him show a brave face if he can;
Let him woo fame and fortune instead;
Yet there's not much to do, but to bury a man
When the last of his dreams is dead.
poem by William Herbert Carruth
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poem 4 my childhood bestie TMB
when u once lived here
life was so much different
life was fun and kewl
life was always an adventure for me & u
Taylor & I are always gonna be
childhood besties
we're frens till the end
I got your back, you got mine
till the end of our life time
your my ride or die gurl
my smile or cry gurl
your always my gurl
Taylor M. Boyd
I maybbe here, your lyke way over there
I will always call you
my childhood bestie
you & I have so much in common
wow....think of us as a mystery
we we're always together
never apart
until the day my bestie tay moved away
she left me all alone & sad
she didnt even come see me and say goodbye
she left me at a bad time
she left when I needed her so bad
I was sad, lonely, and depressed
for the longest time I will admit
taylor your lyke my lil sister
I will no matter what always envy you
you where there when I needed you
I was always there for you
and you broke my heart
when you left me behind
but no worries TAY...
I will always think of you
as my best
childhood BESTIE =)
poem by SmashLey Sweetie Simons
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(Memory Chest) Salvaging the Past
How surprised the sea-chest must have been
when it left the sea
began voyaging with me.
No more travelling in the creak of the hold,
bringing home trinkets
from Sorrento and Port Said
Instead
the trunk set out on my Rake's Progress through
West London's bedsits and flatshares,
painted white in my minimalist period,
covered with a kilim in my exotic Ealing phase,
acquired the status of the Holy Ark
when my childhood's relics, unearthed
from my parents' attic,
found no other home than this dark space,
doubly dark, it rested under my own roof
when for three decades my life I
threw down an anchor, moored
and grew stiff with barnacles
When the storm broke.
the trunk was salvaged, and
I added relics of another childhood to its store.
These little shoes that danced,
these pictures from distant Mothers' Days,
concrete evidence of time gone..
And now., what is its fate?
This little chest has held my past
for over forty years. Shall I now inter more relics there?
Or...................?
poem by Janice Windle
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