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My Childhood Was Robbed

A man whom I trusted,
A man whom I loved,
A man whom I cared for,
as a father, I thought he did a good job.
But then my childhood was robbed.
He turned violent.
He turned cruel.
His kindness certainly took a fall.

I was innocent.
I was free.
But he took all this away from me.
Why did he do it? I don't understand.
He certainly had the upper hand.

My mind is mixed up,
my feelings are sore.
Will the pain ever go away,
or will there be more?
He hurt me so bad, it's hard to explain.
He physically hurt me, which caused me much grief.
My childhood was robbed
Where's the relief?

He would raise his hand and clench his teeth,
in my family, there was no peace.
He ruled the family with an iron fist,
the result - my childhood was missed.

Now. Later in life, after all the pain.
I have to re-live it again and again.
He must pay for all he did,
because you see, I was never a kid.

So now, into court I have lobbed,
to tell the world....
Why my childhood was robbed.

poem by Trinny Trin
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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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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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My Childhood Garden

my childhood garden

my childhood garden
lush and green
it was so happy it made me scream
my joy and hopes
and all my mopes
my childhood garden

my childhood garden
with the ups and downs
when i jumped i could not touch the ground
with my purle ponys
it made it homey
my childhood garden

my childhood garden
flying high
with the little lies
the grass fine
up in the sky my kite
my childhood garden

my childhood garden
now in the past
i now know that it can never last
now as i get taller
it was differnt when i was smaller
my childhood garden

poem by Danielle Eager
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My Innocent Childhood

soil soil and soil, , playing in the soil,
No fear of disease, no fear of toil.
What a wonderful days that was,
i always remember my childhood, my innocent childhood..

Only friend no foes,
no thinking of what dont and what does.
No fear of future, no thinking of present,
i always remember my childhood, my innocent childhood..

What was the past, leave it, it surpassed,
what has to happen, lets face when it comes.
Future planning! What is this?
i always remember my childhood, my innocent childhood..

Play was religion and play was God,
only thing which gave fear, was my fathers rod.
Crying crying crying a lot, then said love you pappa,
i always remember my childhood, my innocent childhood..

poem by Zeya Mallick
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Childhood lost

Lost was my childhood.
Taken from around me from bastards who hurt me.
They were happy playing their games.
Maybe becuase it gave them fame.
All it gave me was pain.
My childhood was lost.
It was taken from me by bastards like you.

As A little girl I was always angry the teachers would say.
If only they knew the truth.
If only they knew why I had so much anger.
It was becuase my childhood was being taken from me.

I never could trust people well after that 9 times.
I hate all of you 5 bastards.
You stole my childhood.
Now later on as I grow older.
It affects me still.
I'm still angry.
My anger has never gone away.
All becuase my childhood was lost too you

poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
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Len Webster's 'Childhood Is...

Childhood Is

when the world to come
is an adventure to be met

Childhood Is

running and hiding
peeking around blind corners
hoping you have been followed

Childhood Is

ducking and diving
dreaming of being in the best
football team in the world
and scoring the winning goal
in the Cup FInal

Childhood Is

being the perfect person
(or not being caught out
when you're not being
the perfect person)

Childhood Is

a mass of contradictions
you don't want to unravel

Childhood Is

a nice cosy bed,
clean sheets
and Mummy's kisses

poem by Len Webster
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Childhoods End (live)

Track 9 _Misplaced Childhood_
And it was morning.
And I found myself mourning,
for a childhood that I thought had disappeared.
I looked out the window,
And I saw a magpie in the rainbow, the rain had gone
I'm not alone, I turned to the mirror,
I saw you, the child, that once loved.
The child before they broke his heart,
Our heart, the heart that I believed was lost.
Hey you, surprised? More than surprised,
to find the answers to the questions,
Were always in your own eyes.
Do you realize that you give it on back to her?
But that would only be retraced in all the problems that you ever knew,
So untrue.
For she's got to carry on with her life,
and you've got to carry on with yours.
So I see it's me, I can do anything
And still the child,
'Cos the only thing misplaced was direction
And I found direction.
There is no Childhood's End.
There is no Childhood's End.
Cos' you are my childhood friend.
Cos' you are my childhood friend.
Oh lead me on.
Hey you, you've survived.
Now you've arrived,
to be reborn in the shadow of the magpie.
Now you realize, that you've got to get out of here.
You've found the leading light of destiny,
burning in the ashes of your memory.
You want to change the world.
You'd resigned yourself to die a broken rebel,
But that was looking backward.
Now you've found the light.
You, the child that once loved,
The child before they broke his heart.
The heart, the heart that I believed was lost
So it's me I see, I can do anything.
I'm still the child.
'Cos the only thing misplaced was direction, and I found direction.
There is no childhood's end.
There is no childhood's end.
There is no childhood's end.
I am your childhood friend.
Oh.. lead me on

song performed by by Marillion
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Childhood Memories

Childhood memories are often steeped in mystery.
The older we get the memories exclude
sometimes things we might find painful as we journeyed on.
I tried to visualise my childhood as a happy one,
though I know in my heart it was a very much lonely one.
Not only was I shy, but I never mixed very well.
I spent so much of my time nearly always on my own.
The only exciting time I can remember
was one summer I spent with friends of my father
whom I referred to as Aunt Elsie and Uncle Jim.
For the two months I spent with them
in a small town called Allison
hold some of the best memories of my childhood.
It was away from my parents
and into someone’s house that cared.
I went fishing every day
in the stream at the end of the garden,
made many friends
and had one of the most enjoyable times
of my childhood
that will always live within me.

5-6 June 2008

poem by David Harris
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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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Pain Pain by cedrick dennis

Pain Pain over here pain over there Pain in my heart pain in my soul Pain in my mind Pain in my skin pain in my bones Pain being caused left and right Pain being caused till the heart bleeds red Pain being caused till the skin and bone rip Pain being caused till you break into tears Pain at school Pain at home Pain in my head, pain in my heart Pain in my mind, pain in my soul Pain happening in my sleep Pain happening in my thoughts Pain happening when I’m alone Pain happening in the shower, in my room, in my bed, in my house where I’m all alone Pain happening every hour, every minute, every second of my life Pain caused by anger and hate Pain caused by hurt Pain caused by greed Pain caused by sorrow and depression Pain caused by grief and confusion Pain caused by your family and friends Pain caused by the world Pain caused by people you love Pain driving me crazy Causing me to take pills till it fills up my veins I go to sleep never to wake up and see that light The light that will end my pain for good

poem by Cedrick Dennis
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The Child No One Knew

A beautiful baby girl
Beautiful locks of golden curls
Becomes a statistic
Of childhood sexual abuse.
Life-so confusing,
Peace, love, joy,
Hate, hurt, pain - a victim
Of childhood sexual abuse.
God, Christianity, Sunday School,
Peace, love, contentment,
Teaching, learning, playing,
Acceptance, Music, God.
The wheat fields flow,
The corn fields tassel
The hay bales to be harvested
The barn full to bursting.
The cellar holds an enemy,
Little children are hurt there,
Down those steps toward torment,
Over and over again.
Grandma held the answer
But she never told a soul
Family could do no wrong
But she cried and when the child cried
She consoled.

poem by Eva L. Shaw
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Tale of Imagination

Beside Imagination say Childhood
As the sun bowed down to Freedom's Moon.
They knew they could - and they would -
Endure the night of June.

Imagination smiled blissfully
Turned to Childhood and said -
'You are my cause - my life.
Without you I'd be dead.'

Childhood replied like light -
'Soon I'll be gone but you will stay.
Three months to live is what I have -
That's all I have - they say.'

The two friends sat in silence then
The wind brushed their straight faces
How could either know just when
Fate would take their places?

They wandered down the empty beach
Let the chilly water lick their feet
Darkness enveloped them each
On their way to their retreat.

They finally arrived at the end
As they stood by Age's grave
Joyfully they met their friend
Named 'Destiny' who would save

Them from living apart.
Imagination turned her youthful eyes
To Childhood and her soft heart.
They joined hands and got a blissful rise.

Together they'd live no matter what
Or how or why or when
They'd live together - breathe together
What Joy would join them then!

poem by Amy Marie
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Souveniers

All the snow has turned to water,
Christmas days have come and gone.
Broken toys and faded colours are all that's left to linger on.
I hate graveyards and old oawn shops,
For they always bring me tears.
I can't forgive the way they robbed me of my childhood souvenirs.
Memories, they can't be boughten.
They can't be won at carnivals for free.
Well it took me years to get those souvenirs,
And i don't know how they slipped away from me.
Broken hearts and dirty windows
Make life difficult to see.
That's why last night and this morning
Always look the same to me.
And I hate reading old love letters
For they always bring me tears.
I can't forget the way they robbed me,
Of my sweetheart's souvenirs.
Memories they can't be boughten,
They can't be won at carnivals for free.
Well it took me years to get those souvenirs
And i don't know how they slipped away from me.

song performed by by John Prine
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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Childhood Is...

Childhood is hanging your pictures on the refrigerator, and tea parties you always have to cater.
Childhood is chasing butterflies and picking flowers,
playing with blocks and making towers.
Childhood is hating nap time,
and thinking everything is always MINE
Childhood is crayons and coloring books,
Playing hide and go seek in all the right nooks.
Childhood is falling asleep to your favorite lullaby,
wishing you had wings so you could soar into the sky.
Childhood is only crying over a scrapped knee,
or being stung by a bumble bee
Childhood is thinking boys have cooties,
or your mom making you wear itchy booties.
Childhood is ruining mommy's new leather,
and making friends and keeping them forever.
Childhood finally ends,
When you start to grow up,
And not having to drink out of a sippy cup

poem by Shenika Vermaak
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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

poem by Tim Bovee
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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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Standing On The Threshold

Standing on the threshold
Of the growing responsibilities,
I stare and peep out of mirror,
Mirrror of shadowed soul,
I look and rejoice my childhood,
Standing on the threshold.

The innocent dreams behold,
Through imagination, the colorful world,
And try to seek some answers,
The answers may be right or wrong.
I look and rejoice my childhood,
Standing on the threshold.

When decency couldn’t be hold,
And being jealous was not off beam,
When there should be a crowd,
Crowd of plays & players around,
I look and rejoice my childhood,
Standing on the threshold.

There were fairies in stories, told
Which looked real & with soul,
And we used to build our own home,
Home exactly like of fairies land,
I look and rejoice my childhood,
Standing on the threshold.

The hands gradually gets fold,
With my fingers in it hold tightly,
For guiding me all the way,
The way that is now lost,
I look and rejoice my childhood,
Standing on the threshold.

The smile that was clear & bold,
Has now turned very wintry,
The unconditional loud laugh,
Now laughs loudly at me,
I look and rejoice my childhood,
Standing on the threshold.

poem by Sudha Pandey
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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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Secrets That Don't Need To Be In My Life Anymore

i hate these moments,
i'm so stressed out,
i don't know what to do,
plus having flashbacks on top of it,
only becuz the body remembers,
what was done to it,
can't tell what real,
it all just feels like a really bad dream,
i just want out,
everything comes to mind,

do i drink,
just to numb the pain?
do i self injure,
just to stop the intense pain?
i just want it to stop,
i don't know what to do,
every touch is a reminder,
that i didn't have a normal childhood,
no matter how hard i try,
i'm just me,

a person that is hurting,
from childhood sexual abuse,
i said it,
it's out,
the pain is less,
i hated that secret,
but it still leaves me alone,
no many ppl can understand my pain,
my struggles i live by,
the frustration that leaves me,
to want to take the easy way out,

to go as far as finding a drug,
that will numb me enough,
where i can feel ok,
but i know if i do,
than i'm only moving backwards,
it the reason i continue to fight,
even when it get hard like today,
cuz in the end when the rain stops,
the sun will shine,
and show me a better day,
i'm just wish the rain,
will hurry up and leave already.

poem by Mona Martinez
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