A poem on child abuse by the powerful. Every one, is more powerful than a child. But every one may also have a God who forgives, protects, excuses and takes responsibility in their eyes.


‘Twas just a touch

Some feel

Not much.

My Lord is strong

My will is weak

Let He be heard

Let His child speak..

‘Twas a test

Designed for me

I plead, again

For His mercy.

Then, He speaks:

I hear Him, clearly.

‘My child,

Be free,

I heard your plea.’

‘Tis just a touch

I feel,

Not much.

Somewhere close

The li’l one shrinks

In prayer

She thinks

‘Tis just a touch,

I fear

Not much.

o’ Lord

Forgive me,

But I detest

This beauty.

All love, this life

Is lost to me.

– ID

I am slightly crazy and totally sarcastic, with a nasty icing of cynicism. I exude pessimistic vibes every now and then. However, I do actively look for things that make me happy, like birds, damselflies and dragonflies, mountains and of course, books. Generous, inspiring people and people who enjoy what they do for a living while being good at it, make me feel like it is, after all, worthwhile being human. I hope to write about things in a way that makes them interesting.. and makes me more human-like. No matter how many times I rewrite this, still comes out corny. I give up

One thought on “Abuse

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