Hey everyone, another very sincere apology for not writing in a while, and I am going to sound like a broken record when saying this, but again, I have been very busy, despite the season of quarantine.

Anyway, I was asked to write a poem for a group assignment in literature based upon the theme of self existence (which is very broad I know, but my group chose it so we could have a wide variety of poems in our anthology that briefly relate to each other in that note) and I was proud of the one we (mostly I, since I do most of the group work individually) came up with.

The name of this poem is called “Painful Idolization”, and it came under a more specific theme of sadness and abuse. This poem explores the experiences of a young girl growing up with a physically abusive father and a verbally abusive mother.

Other then the sadness and pain she endures, this poem also brushes upon the idolization that a child will have upon their parents, and while writing the saying “like mother like daughter” or “like father like son” brushed through my mind. This made me think about all the opinions that adults strongly support that have mostly been birthed from their parents opinions that have been birthed from their grand parents. But sometimes this is not the case, and in this poem, we know that the kid has risen above the negativity and cynicism to lead a somewhat decent life.

I hope you enjoy reading it, and if you desire to leave a comment, please leave negativity and bad thoughts in your head and not down there, but any constructive criticism. Enjoy!

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The calloused skin of his hand collided with my cheek as he struck me, 
Oozing blood poured from my healing bruise as my vision was blurred and I couldn’t see,
My buckling knees shuddered as I focused on my mother’s screaming silhouette, 
But his grip became stronger, and she faded into nothing as I tried to break free. 

Consciousness tugged at me, as I tried to open my pain swelled eyes, 
My mind bended and twist at the thought of my friends and how I had to betray them with my lies, 
Flashes of black and blue, and memories of fear suffocate me, but I push them away,
However, the throbbing gets louder, and I remember my mum saying that only a beggar cries.

Like daggers in my back, her words puncture my skin deeply, 
My mum’s criminal eyes and mouth each as cruel and deadly but discreetly, 
I turn to face my sure termination, as the similar look of regret forms in her eyes, like the day I was born,
Her beautiful mouth forms destructive words, and my shattered and broken mind tells my heart to pound rapidly.

Years have passed and the scars have never faded, 
Although when you look at my face, you’ll see it is perfectly aided, 
But after all of these lies and strikes that I could never un-see or un-feel, 
Somehow, I have still grown up decently, and the rest of my life, 
Well, I’m gonna savour it...