shenita-etwarooAnimal Rights and Other Poetry By Shenita Etwaroo From All-Creatures.org


Shattered

The sound of shattering,
it still echoes through me,
even though the past has stopped mattering,
and I have finally escaped your misery.
Still I hear it breakÖ
I hear the shattering of my heart,
I hear the abuse I was made to take,
I hear the sorrow I endured from the start.
I hear the shattering of broken bones,
of what happens when a body hits the floor,
of the saddest cries and deepest moans,
of what happens when you canít walk out the door.
I hear the shattering of my soul,
as I hid beneath my bed,
and prayed for my life to be whole,
instead of slashed into bits and shreds.
Moments that became dark memories,
displaced and disjointed,
as the horrors became secret stories,
and fingers were never allowed to be pointed.
Please help me, gentle hands,
please soothe this pain away,
because I donít understand,
why this is my life day to day.
But the softest hands in my life,
did nothing but harm,
they only deepened my strife,
with a hatred that I couldnít disarm.
I needed some safety,
a place to hide and breathe,
a place to heal and grieve.
But I didnít know what love looked like,
because the tears in my eyes left me blind,
and I chose the wrong path to hike,
and found myself in a brand new bind.
Soft hands, please save me,
please teach me to be adored,
please end this sad sad story,
and leave me feeling comforted and assured.
Instead those soft hands hurt me more,
under the guise of the imitation of love,
it shattered me in a way I never had before,
and I was left begging for mercy from above.
As the tears spilled down my cheeks,
and my soul cried out for sweet release,
I prayed one last time for what the heart seeks,
despite the bitterness that had become my beliefs.
In the darkness that became my breath and skin,
I suddenly witnessed a streak of light,
that wakened the dormant soul within,
and taught me that things really could be right.
My angels, more beautiful than any known,
with hands so soft and gentle and warm,
healed my shattered heart and shattered bone,
around me their love and compassion did swarm
I learned finally that I was not to blame,
that I had done nothing so terribly wrong,
and though I might never be the same,
my hurts could become what made me strong.
With love so determined and endless pride,
I blossomed beneath their soft hands,
as I became who I always was inside,
and found the strength on which to stand.
I was born into a world shattered,
into chaos and hatred and misery,
but finally someone showed me that I mattered,
and finally I learned that I truly could be free.

 

© Shenita Etwaroo


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