Abuse Poem

Poem Of Loneliness And Desolation In A Broken Home

I am 27 now, but I had a horrific childhood. Everything from an alcoholic mother, a dead beat father, to step-dads molesting me and beating my mom and being cruel to my brothers. Writing was my only outlet. It was a way that made me feel I was telling someone, and to this day I still hurt a lot from my past.

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Can't seem to put into words how you blessed my mind with your poems. They have helped me come out of my shell. Thankful you are comfortable putting this out there for the world to see....

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The Broken Girl

Published by Family Friend Poems February 2009 with permission of the Author.

Welcome to my broken home,
There's nobody here, I'm all alone.

The walls they scream of things once said,
They constantly echo in my head.

The door in front it never closes as people never stay,
The hatred and guilt always drives them away.

So welcome to my broken home; I don't have anything to offer you,
No love, no face; I'm out of place and there's not much I can do.

I sit in here and do nothing at all,
But stare at these empty walls.

It portrays the life of hurt and hate,
My destiny, my anguish, my solitaire fate.

It's like a projection screen playing a never-ending show,
It's like it's in slow motion, so painfully slow.

So run now from my broken home, keep the door open as you leave,
Because being trapped in here I still need air to breathe.

Tell now about my broken home of all things heard and said,
Because even as a woman that house still lives in my head.

That little girl trapped inside, well that little girl is me,
Even though I'm older now the horrible thoughts won't let me be.

more by Natasha Jordan

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