Beneath my skin bloody gouges
unseen by those who say that they care
As long as the story matches the faces
they don’t need to acknowledge.
Do you hear my silent plea for help?
my eyes are bruised with fear, desperation
I stink of sweat hoping that you will notice
Unable to project my voice.
You can read about me in the paper
the guilt that I swear I hope eats
My child the one you cooed over
motherless because you did not speak…..
you did not act and make a report……
tonight was the night that the violence burst free
and tonight was the night I needed someone to see.
©Jay-lyn Doerksen
3/2/17
There is no reason to be concerned about this poem. It just suddenly poured forth from me and I had to capture it.
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Remember I am here
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