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Beauty Ugly and Beast of Fire. This is a poem I recently wrote about my past - as always... comments please! And just for the hell of it - you can always sign my guestbook! ________________________________________________________________________________ *** Through my tear stained window, I gaze at a life that once was, When I was just four. Long ago it seems - those sunny shadows on my nursary walls. The trees, swishing, all blochy with the summer rays. The singing birds, the clear air. All that laughter - now just echo's. Those hazy, careless days, gone with a swoop of a swallow. *** Fields of Isolation. While poppies a flood, flow red, Through the bard wire fence, Trapped. The lies seeping, Trying to warm thier bloody glow.. But suffer they still do. *** She was my idol, My tower of love and laughter. Affection flowed out of her like a warm glow. I, her darling daughter. *** That all changed. Depression over took her life. She suffered internally, I suffered externally and inside i was burning. Hair pulling, voice of aching screams, eyes of fire, red and raw, burining with hate and annoyance. Those visions still flood my mind, The eyes the most - melting my soul. Pain and helplessness gushed inside. *** "Get out of my sight", she'd scream. Locked away in my room, Entwined in my suffering, My heart bleeding. I'd stay till morn - always took its time coming. Smelly, dirty weeping and worried, I'd creep out. My dreaded mother would await, as if nothing happened. Never a word. Not even a sorry. *** Teachers, friends - no-one woulf get me talking. I just could not. They'd never understand. Mother said I clam. She'd get angry when I didn't argue back, Then at times, I try to argue back, But she just gets more angry. I'll never win. *** Bullied the pulp by children who were ignorant and cruel. Names said to me that made me shy, And my self eestem was none. Humilation always, Being tripped and tricked, Laughed at and scorned. Even my friends never helped me Or were there. Always the 'new girl'. Always the red and worried pupil. Unsettled times for 14 years. The numbers 8 and 14, Always unlucky. Misery dowsed in school and out. *** I the ugly beauty - mother the terror - able beast. My room, My safe haven. keeping the faith always floated the dark clouds away. Next -------- Or read my other poems. Or go back to the main page. |