Wednesday, February 25, 2015

The children were in bed



Rings under her eyes
Docile much like a rabbit
Fear her companion

Children were in bed
Long before he came home drunk
For his evening meal

He might be okay
Not inflict her with abuse
She could never tell

With some money left
He’d slowly eat in silence
He might not hit her

With empty pockets
She would be the one at fault
If she’d dared whimper

Nobody believed
Her excuse for the bruises
Even her children

They tried not to cry
Huddled together in bed
And kept dead quiet


Image found at www.zolaurbannews.co.za

10 comments:

  1. You've captured well the uncertainty and fear in abusive situations. It's too bad they exist.

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  2. Can certainly relate to this heart wrenching poem..why do we always protect those who harm us...can the consequences be any worse than those already meted out...or do they have us so well trained..like an addiction...powerful poem Old Egg..but not at all mawkish

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  3. Great job with this OE...Unfortunately brought back some long ago buried memories.

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  4. Abusers specialize in taking out their frustrations with life on the people who are least responsible for them.

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  5. You wrote that with such melancholy passion. I have chosen a similar theme this week as I suspect others will have too.

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  6. you've captured the fear and silence that abusers create perfectly.

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  7. It happens all too often. I've known a few women in the middle of it, and found them frustrating because they refused help.

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  8. Family violence is never a good thing.

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  9. Oh! Such abuse is so depressing...
    Sadly many are at the receiving end of such...
    May everyone be happy & may there be no abuse or bruises or scared kids...

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  10. sad and depressing but true in many cases

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