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What Do You DO When Someone Steals Your Content?

Lorelle Tells It All

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NOTE:

I am taking a new approach to posting entries from now on. From today I will be stating the things that inspired me in writing a corresponding entry, and reveals its intention when needed.

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Hushed!


In domestic violence and aggression, or in a family whose leaders are in the verge of divorce battles, it is most often that the children are the ones who are forbidden to get involved but are the ones left most shattered and devastated. Such destructive issues have become rampant nowadays that they come to slowly alter the ways of the world into something of its own, at least in the world of our children. We might ask, whatever happen if a home’s lamp and pillar come crushing down? The answer is everywhere now. With open eyes and awake soul, we can see them so easily.







From them he learns to voice his outcry

at such young age ---

he’s supposed to be playing!

Where forces of thralldom

make him find ways to stand alone;

Cupping hands over his ears,

his way of list’ning to his own songs;

Casting his eyes to familial exiguity

to such fragile relationship,

to the wails of many a depravity;

Though dark he still sees in them a buoy

where the glint sparks unwavering hope

of salvation, of his salvation.


Domestic tumult a cataract to his eyes

and the uprising of wounded soul,

the omen of phantom barricades ---

all blinding his youthful conviction

instilling fear, guilt and rebellion.

Drastic hands grasping tight the metal rails

for the hurting is pushing him to the edge,

the kindled future’s slipping down the ridge.

How soulless it is if they’d let him see them

walk away leaving him, forsaking him!

There must be a way to level the gorge

or he’ll be skidding fast and falling ---

from parental purlieu to bottomless perdition.


From his eyes dreams are escaping

his body shivers, not capable of losing;

At the threshold of their home

where the playground lies,

a crossfire is trapping him, crushing him.

Stand but not just wait, he tells himself

while all the others await

where the balance will go tilt,

Here he is tipping his head high

before this hostile, charred fair ---

Patch the shards, hush the screaming!

Curb my erosion, redress your err!

--- But nobody’s list’ning.


If he could just be much older,

perhaps they’d hear him.

Does he really has to first grow old?



Photograph from allcare.net. Please CLICK HERE to go there.

3 Comments:

  1. WELCOME TO MY WORLD OF POETRY: said...
    A child should know what is going on especially in the case of a divorce, they have opinions too.
    Well written and very interesting to read.

    Yvonne
    Brosreview said...
    Brilliant mate! Brought back memories! I can relate to this! Keep writing!
    septembermom said...
    You capture so much about the struggles within some children. Wonderfully written.

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