WN ( / Australia)

She Is Alone

She hides alone beneath the bed
Her tears fall; nothing said
She stares up; the springs all rusty
The room dry; dark and musty

Why is she there you all may ask
It is her one and only task
To hide, to shelter in fear alone
To hide from her father; the old crone

Her fear surmounts as he walks the hall
The footsteps louder; strong and tall;
She huddles closer under the bed
She is quiet; for nothing will be said

She hides because of his unwanted advances
She is a survivor of his awful glances
The hands and stares; the indirected trust
The violation; fears a must

Footsteps by the bedroom door
She is caught up in a dreadful war
Between her and him; hiding and scare
She is alone; lifes not fair

Her heart continues to pound aloud
She is far from the maddening crowd
The footsteps pause; she huddles near
Her one wish; to be without fear

He continues on down the house
She is quiet; like a mouse
Scared and huddled; her mind fast
She does not think that she will last

She stays there for quite a while
Her face does not show a happy smile
She does not know what to do
So she huddles there; her teddy too

She stares out the window sill
She thinks of him; his iron will
Fear rules her life; for now and years
To be filled of fright and many tears

Her daddy should be a stout supporter
Not frightening his own daughter
With his touches and his taunts
With his awful glares that daunt

For now thinking back on this scene
I could see what it does mean
She is strong; she could hide
Protecting herself in her stride

The years of abuse took its toll
The hiding; made her feel so small
But now she has a loud voice
It is her one and only choice

That no child should cope with fear
For the memory years on; still so near
But she knows this scene is unending
Hidden from society; never bending

Next time you see a child fear
Remember this rhyme; it could be near
Think that this could be happening too
Perhaps closer still; even to you.


Protect your kids - 1 in 3 females will be sexually abused by their 21st birthday; mostly by family members.

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Robert Frost

Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening

Comments (1)

This is a powerful poem about an issue that is much more common than statistics tell. As a ministerial counselor, I had nearly half of my clients who had been sexually abused and/or subjected to incest. Abuse of children in any form has far-reaching consequences and leaves lasting scars. Thank you for speaking out. Wishing you healing and hope, HDC