youth, like delicate petals,
crushed under boot
innocence lost
but something else took root
words and hands
left a lasting impression
being born
was her only transgression
though her trust and body
were both betrayed
in her heart
was born this crusade
to speak for those
who haven’t the choice
to see the truth
and give it voice
Hear this, predators:
whether stanger, “friend” or “family”
For your crimes
there will be no amnesty!
~Melanie Blackwell
Filed under People/Causes I believe In, Poetry
Also on Amazon PRINT or E-BOOK http://www.amazon.com/Spectrum-Watercolored-Mrs-Melanie-Thomason/dp/1505755239
We're all on a road to somewhere.
And so it goes...
The author, his books, and his blog
Things I want to say about this, that, and the other thing.
A Little Writing Workshop of Horrors.
"If you but knew the flames that burn in me which I attempt to beat down with my reason." - Alexander Pushkin
Inspirational, Motivational, and Heartwarming Stories
Scribblings and scrawls of a hopeless romantic soul
a decathexis deconstruction by a.d.matthias
Welcome to my Art and Lifestyle Blog. Follow my adventures as a Bohemian artist.
My view, tho' somewhat askew...
34°N 86°W
A Wife, My Verse, and Every Little Thing
Experiments in Creative Writing, and more ....
The Unspoken Words Worth Writing Down
schreiben als antwort aufs schweigen
Poetry and Stories by Mark Tulin
Author River Dixon
Daniel's Poetry
𝙳𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖 𝚋𝚒𝚐! 𝙻𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚒𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚛!
Rhymes and Reasons
a resource for moving poetry
Just trying to find me between the pages, into the wild I go to lose my mind and find my soul.
Beats a real human heart...
Random meaningful words on a page
by Lize Bard
Reclaiming my inner badass at 50
Tigers not daughters
The Art of Glamorous Fantasy
Luxuriating in the Arts
Sriram Janak - Photography
Feminist, Writer, Cult Classic
Create a path of Light with your Life
Welcome to my world.
Tales from the mouth of a wolf
Great poets live on the edge of sanity; mediocre ones reside in the suburbs.
visualize whirled peas...all you have to do is stop the violins!
Poets Pub
A gorillas existential crisis
Author of A Journal for Damned Lovers & X and I: A Novel
AM Roselli's art & writing site
Smidgens
So powerful. This is truly wonderful. I just can’t say enough about this poem Melanie. Right to the heart. I’m going to reblog. Thank you sweet one.
Thank you lovely 🙂
Reblogged this on Rethinking Life and commented:
This is a POWERFUL poem. Aimed at those who steal the life and innocence of children.
It’s difficult for me to “like” a poem like this when it’s filled with such darkness. I do appreciate it though, and thank you for sharing it. ~ Michael
I understand, I see the “like” as a sign of support and appreciation…not that you necessarily like the subject matter. Thank you for taking the time to read and comment.
Thank you, that is exactly how it was intended. Peace _/\_ Michael
My “like” on this goes for the message at the end. Powerful, and needs to be taken heed of.
Understood, I see the “like” as a sign of support…
Thank you 🙂
In this case, I support both the message and the way in which you delivered it and yourself 😀
Thank you lovely 🙂
It is such a helpless feeling to know that so many little ones are at the mercy of these evil creatures…We must be diligent and aware.
Yes if people would truly open their eyes and take action when needed, things could be prevented or stopped.
I know this one! I don’t share it much but when I read something like this well I really don’t know what to say, maybe one day I’ll write about it when I more brave!
You will write it when you are ready…it is therapeutic 🙂
You are so right! It’s amazing though it doesn’t seem to come until it’s time I think! I’m still working it out! 🙂
I came home one day to my house at the far end of the Dirt Rd., Hiana mountain with no neighbors to find the doors open and that I had been broken into. I entered the house holding a loaded 45, angry at the invasion but Un-afraid. Much of been stolen including a piggy bank that my daughter had worked all summer selling lemonade to fill with $155.
All that I could deal with what broke my heart was that for several weeks before she went to bed my daughter would say to me will they come back daddy. They left her feeling unsafe in our own home. I later realized that I would rather lose the things they stole than shoot someone. I thank Grace for the fact that I learned this before being confronted with a situation where someone was in the building when I came home. If someone made her or any woman in my life feel unsafe in their own body it would be another test, one I don’t wish to face.
That could have turned out much worse so I’m happy that you and your daughter were spared more terror. I’m glad you didn’t have to face that test.
A powerful war cry, Melanie! And such a gritty and raw poem. I love the moving language you use here, and the rhythm and flow of the lines. Excellent writing.
Thank you so much, Miranda 🙂
my dear Melanie, you will always have my support, we know there should be no amnesty because there is no true justice for a crime that lasts forever. Love and Hugs to you.
Thank you!! Love and hugs to you my friend 🙂
There is anger, and hope
Yes!
Reblogged this on justiceforkevinandjenveybaylis.
Thank you
This cuts to the heart of all I feel for the right of a child to be that innocence. The gravest of sins to hurt or maim the heart of a child. There never can be an amnesty on what is stolen from an innocent soul. In this world or the next someone answers for this. I am sure of it. And while there is breath in the body of those who seek to protect there is hope that fewer may suffer. A rallying call to be always watchful. x
I’m glad this resonated with you. If only more would heed the call.
this is beyond powerful – I really cannot add more to what the above comments have stated. this is a brilliant piece – inspiring.
I really appreciate the time you spent visiting. Thank you again for such warm comments.
We never forget the betrayal, the broken trust. We remember blaming ourselves. Then the hatred and shame that lay buried deep within our psyche, boils to the surface one day. It reminds us that the world we carved in order to survive, has abandoned us. We are left naked, stripped of everything we knew that had helped us cope. In this moment we realize we have never lived, but only survived by false pretenses.
Yes.
Pingback: no amnesty | Wordifull