A child called 'it'. How upsetting. 23 June 06


Pelzer.

It had to choose its path,
With 'the mother' and her games,
A drunken father heroic,
And a brother who calls him names.

In the garage;
Prisoner of war position,
The mother spent her commercials,
Strangling with intuition.

It doesn't know what it's done wrong,
Why its arms are burnt -

And bleeding.

And a nightmare of that silver knife,
And it wakes up screaming.

The mother comes again,
It's without permission to speak,

Or move.

For five days without food,
And the same clothes each day,
It is urged to steal,
With only remorse to pay.

And more hurt, when it's home.


 





Poetry by John Ashleigh
Read 965 times
Written on 2006-06-23 at 13:22

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Teala
I have read all of Dave Peltzer's books--they are shocking, and in the end inspiring. I saw him speak once, he truly is an inspiration--to live through all that he did is amazing. This poem acuratly describes his pain.
2006-12-15


Onyeka Nwelue
Well, welcome buddy. Check my blog. I have written something about you. Thanks
2006-06-23


Kathy Lockhart
outstanding, I have read the books and you have captured his horrors in the poem. It is truly penetrating. kathy
2006-06-23



That is a stunning poem on Dave's situation.
I must go and read the book too. :_)
2006-06-23