deepundergroundpoetry.com
Age Of Innocence
Oh how I wish that I had never turned seven
I wish that I could go back to the days,
When my young life was filled with a childish joy and exuberance
For my days where long, and filled with a golden joy,
The joy of the innocent, and those pure of heart and soul
Now seventeen, and oh, how I ache...
For so long, TOO long,
I ignored the past, ignored the pain
The pain that lurked deep within me,
Staining my soul, and wearing away my joy
When I think back to those early days,
I remember loving my mother, loving my father, and loving the world
I grew uploving them,
But never understanding why they faught
I remember that this made me so distraught,
I was still young enough that I thought that this was all normal
Not yet old enough to wish for more
My mother in her own way, tried her best
Although she could have, no, SHOULD have, done more,
But at least she tried
My father never cared, never played with me, never read to me,
Never once said that he loved me
It's such a shame, for I was daddy's little girl,
I could never have wished for a better hero,
I though that he was just the best
And then I turned seven,
And my life became HELL
I witnessed my father strangle my mother,
She didn't die though, thankfully
HE should have done time for his crime, but did not
Not long after, he packed his bags and left,
This broke my already fragile heart, and shattered my soul
For he wanted nothing to do with me,
For six months I did not see my hero
And deppression slowly wrapped itself around me, in its chilly embrace
At just eight years old,
I wanted to take a knife and stick it into my wrists
I wanted the blood to spray out of me in sticky crimson streams,
I wanted to wake up in heaven, all of my pain, all of my loss,
Nothing but a bad dream
Most people lose their childhoon when they turn thirteen,
I lost mine when I turned eight
I was in my own little bubble of pain and misery,
Separated from the world, cut off, abandoned, adrift...
I have never looked at the world the same way since
I can see myself,
A small child, with frizzy, brown curly hair,
With pale skin, and innocent brown eyes,
Curled up underneath my bed in a ball
Tears running down my face, as I beg God to return to me my hero, my idol
So yeah, I wish that I could turn back time,
And tell myself that it'll be okay
That eventually the pain will fade, and that the scars will vanish
I haven't seen my father since I was thirteen,
And so many days have gone by in which I have missed him
Although I chose never to see him again,
A small part of me still whish's that he was here besides me
So that then I could pretend that everything was okay again
Because despite all of the pain that he has caused me,
He is still my father
And I now know from experince, that no matter how hard I try,
I will never be able to stop loving him
For he was, and still is,
My Hero, my abandoner, my betrayer, and finally, my father
Published 26th Jul 2014
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 1
reading list entries 0
comments 1
reads 705
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
24th Jan 2015 8:28am
The pain of loving someone who will not love you back is heart wrenching and soul drepaving, you are and always will be a heroine to yourself. The poem itself leaves me amazed at how much you have taken but still refuse to give up even when it gets hard sometimes. Beautiful
