With this blog comes the hopes and dreams that it will serve multiple purposes.
The first and most significant purpose is to serve as an avenue toward healing the pain that many children of families of violence still carry with them in their adult lives.
Secondly, it will provide educational material. As you make your journey, hopefully you will find the support here of others who have made or who are in the process of making this same journey. The tools and the support that you will need can be found here.

Be aware the content of this blog is in no way "Dressed Up". This blog, like family violence itself, is not a walk in the park. Here the reality is faced both past and present!

Content will be added to this blog as it is made available.


Saturday, May 31, 2008

The Lessons Learned

The Lessons Learned

Picture if you will, A child of three.
She's frightened and confused,
Not understanding,Why her mother,
Is mistreated and abused.

As time goes by, This same child,
With broken spirit and heart,
Watches as brother is beaten,
Unable to take his part.

She doesn't grow as other girls,
Young years full of laughter
And no cares.
Her days are filled with caution,
While sleep brings nightmares.

He taught her well,
With his violence,
And the words,
"Children are to be
Seen and not heard."

She learned at an early age,
What caused his fuse to ignite,
So she spends her youthful years,
Withdrawn and out of sight.

The violent acts continue,
Followed by the words,
"See what you caused me to do?"
How many times She heard those words,
And believes them to be true.

If guilt is laying about somewhere,
She claims it as her own.
As her young years slip slowly past.
She feels hopelessly alone.


the story continues

© 2000 Jo Riley Dupree


Sue Glasco said...

What an accurately told story: If guilt is laying about somewhere, She claims it as her own. Each line precisely explains and intensivies that terrible darkness the child lives in. The poems on this page are difficult to comment upon. No matter how well written, the poems cannot be described as "Good," "Beautiful," of "Fine."
Yet I think these poems have great value--not just to the writer but also to each reader. Does the shared understanding and shared pain between writer and reader create its own beauty that begins to transcend the horror?

Juli said...

Thank you