Never Once

Silence or screams,
no in-between...
a hard place to grow,
with nothing to know
but rippling confusion

and the occasional contusion -
mostly around the heart.
There wasn't a part
of the girl's little life
that wasn't derived

from a woman and a man
who could not command
a bit of love or respect
from each other. They left
their offspring to find

a pilfered mine
of lazy regret - misshapen
truths, she sharply inhaled them.
Girls grow into women
with hopes well-limned

despite sorry upbringings,
never once feeling
a hand print of love.
One day a man stood above
her and said that he would

touch her in love but he could
not for he was diminished too
by his own demons, not a few...
So, her life leans with the wind
with yet a form of hope, much thinned.


(3.26.06 - - For you, Little Spirit...)

by Esther Leclerc

Comments (16)

Beautifully written; this happens so often, but always so sad.
Against all odds, love and hope shine just as it does in this lovely poem. (=: CHEERS: =) Robert
Utterly heart-rendering. You do tragedy superbly. And leave us wondering, indeed, of the well-being of 'Little Spirit', now? t x
Oh Esther, Why haven't I discovered this one before? This is so sad. Written with sensitivity rather than sentimentality, it is all the more poignant for it. Poor little soul. The awful cyclical nature of neglect... One wonders what became of her? Thanks for sharing. love, Allie xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
I very much felt your powerful poem. Too often, it seems to me, it's not the world we have to fight. Instead we must find ourselves and free ourselves from the emotional chains of the past. A well-written, well-crafted poem.
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