Wounded

Wounded Child
Crying in Corner
Lost between the years

Crying out Silently
No One Comes
No One Hears

A Prison of Silence
Surrounds Me,
Into an Early Grave.

How do I start
to Breath Again?
Am I Someone's Slave?

A Wounded Child
grows, As Does
A Wounded Man.

The Wound Becomes My Sword.
Like Tempered Steel,
I am strong again, Oh my Lord.

A Wounded Man Sat
Crying Lost
Within his Years.

Silence at last was Broken
Stattered Wounds Turned
Into a River of Tears.

A Sword of Anger Broke me out,
As I Yelled Screamed and Roared.

The Prison wasn't
Mine at Last
It Was Yours.

By M. Joseph

The Prison wasn't mine at last it was Yours !

The abuse was not done by me, it was done by them. I must let go of their hold on me. This poem is about letting go of the abuse.

Part of the letting go is in the writting of the poem. I still have a way to go. Spending more time on today instead of yesterday.

michael Joseph,

Thank you for sharing. We are all on this journey, letting go of the 'prison' isn't easy. I agree it is not of our my making, but I stay there sometimes anyway...

Jim C.
Hisatsinom

thanks still12 and Jim C.

thanks for being on this journey with me.

WOW, MIKE.. THAT IS WHAT ALOT OF US FEEL, ISN'T IT?

CRYING OUT SILENTLY
NO ONE COMES
NO ONE HEARS....

DAMN.THATS ME...DAMN THEM, DAMN THEM ALL TO HELL, AND WORSE.THEY DON'T NO WHAT THEY HAVE DOEN TO ME, DO THEY? THEY COULD CARE WHAT THEY DID. IT JUST KEEPS COMING BACK DOESN'T IT? JUST KEEPS ON COMING BACK

I guess we can all relate to this poem, remmeber who is in the prison cell. It is not me.

go fly a kite, I hope you are ok

stay in touch somehow, don't just

fade away. We are all brothers here.

Michael
as much as I read and write, I have never been able to get into poetry, I've never been able to conjure up the images that I can when reading a novel.

But "Wounded" somehow got through to me, made startling images in my mind and moved me deeply, which I liked.

Thanks for that.
Lloydy

Thanks Loydy, I feel wonded right now.

I am sitting with the pain.

Michael Joseph

The prison wasn't mine at last it was yours.

Blame is a tricky thing isn't it?

If you are a friend leave me a responce,

I need positive messages at the moment.

Rogers Waters/Pink Floyd

It makes me wonder what inspired "The Dark Side of the Moon"

Hang in there. The closer to home you get, the harder it gets to break the silence. It's a rough ride, but it's worth it.

thanks Devon,,,,

and Pink Floyd!!!!!!!!

The tears are flowing!!!!!!!!

And I am growing!!!!!!!!!!

Right on! Great poem!

The way I see it now, my perps are the ones who are in a prison--of their own making! They made it for me but I am breaking free!

Thanks for sharing that, Michael Joseph!

And thanks Devon, for sharing those powerful words of Pink Floyd. Someone in that group has got to be a survivor or close to someone who is. That's a survivor group if I ever heard one. "Dark Side" was one of the first albums I ever got. Yeah album--so it dates me!

Another great survivor group of a different kind is Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers: "Won't Back Down," "Refugee," "Runnin Down a Dream," etc.

Take Care Guys

Wuame

For some reason this poem is different for me. I am not sure why. I really like the end, "the prison wasn't mine at last it was yours." The blame was put on me too, my perp. said we were doing something wrong the night he ended it.

It is not my prison cell, and I will not live there. He must live with all he has done to all the boys he has hurt.

Including ME !

It is strange what the abuse does to us.

Look at all the time I have spent in getting over being abused. Time I could have been using for other things.

I am me and that is who I will be.

I am wounded, and I am healing too.

We are all wounded in some way.

What matters is what we do to keep living.

so much goes on day by day hour by hour

inspiration for a poem

then it takes a while to live what the poem says

Sometimes I am still in the prison

Sometimes I hurt

Sometimes it is not so bad to be alive

Sometimes I am actually glad to be here

I need to cry
I need to be held
the child inside is hurt and lonely
I need my friends to help
I am tired of doing it alone

So much happens as a result of a child being hurt.
I must wonder why any adult would even consider hurting a child and scaring them for life.

So many things go through the minds of children while they are being hurt, it is amazing we come away as good as we do. I am not alone, there are others out there that understand what I have been through.

It is not my prison---not at all!!!

Good thinking and writting Mike--good to see you writting again.

Bob

I remembered this poem today and thought "I want to read that again"

So here I am, and after the poem comes Michael's astonishing commentary on his own poem, and his relationship with it.

Poetry comes from somewhere else within us, somewhere I haven't found yet. But Michael has.

Today I needed to read these words -

Thank you Michael.

Dave

Hello Loydy

hope you are doing ok