I had to share this wonderful short story by Gigi. She weaves such magical tales filled with love and hope. Do visit her page to find more treasures.
Everyone thought Billy, Bobby and Jimmy were brothers, I mean they did have the same last name, after all. But the truth is, the boys were not related in any way. Matt and Clarise Connely had Billy and then sort of picked up Bobby and Jimmy along the way.
They were living on Elm Street, in a sleepy sort of town, when Bobby started hanging around their house. He and Billy became friends and what was once a, “would you like to stay for dinner,” invitation quickly turned in to an every night occurrence. Bobby, it seemed, was afraid to go home. Clarise could see it on his face and in his manner. One night, when everyone went into the living room, she asked him to stay the kitchen for a moment. Clarise asked Bobby to sit down at the table, which he did rather reluctantly. She gave him a plate of chocolate chip cookies, right out of the oven, so the chips were soft and stringy, just the way he liked them.
“You’re almost living here,” said Clarise sweetly.
“Can I?” asked Bobby.
“Can you what?”
“Live here,” he answered in a rush, his eyes wide, chocolate smeared across his upper lip. “Please.”
Does this painting reach in and pull out your heart? Perhaps you know someone who has looked like this? Perhaps it has even been you…
IF you think no one you know has been or is being beaten you are deluding yourself. Some of us just hide it well.
It is not ok, it is never ok and no one deserves to be a punching bag.
If anyone lays a hand on you in violence please know:
1- Contrary to what they may say it is not because they love you sooo much
2- You didn’t MAKE them do it
3- They will do it again
I implore you all to read this. It is sad, ridiculous, sickening and infuriating that this is the reality we live in. In America! In 2015!
Attn: MEN reading this… Yes, there are good guys out there…if you are one of them, please take this to heart. No real change can take place without your help.
Photo from public domain
* According to the U.S. Surgeon General, domestic violence is the leading cause of injury to women in the United States.
* The American Medical Association estimates that their American male partners assault 2 million American women each year.
* The U.S. Department of Justice estimates that 95% of the victims of domestic violence are women.
* A WOMAN IS BEATEN EVERY 15 SECONDS IN THE UNITED STATES (Bureau of Justice Statistics, Report to the nation on Crime and Justice. The Data. Washing DC Offic of Justice Program, US Dept. of Justice, Oct 1983)
* 35% of all emergency room calls are a result of domestic violence.
* Of those who abuse their partner, well over 65% also physically and/or sexually abuse the children.
* Each day…4 women die as a result of abuse.
* Each day…3 children die as a result of abuse.
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I had to share this powerful poem of yet another broken childhood. Shattered by the fists of Domestic Violence.
Yet she is raising her voice, now will you listen?
Featured Image Courtesy of
Try growing up in an unhappy home.
One where love between the people who made, crafted and moulded isn’t shown.
Try having to wake up in the middle of the night to see your sisters fight.
Not each other, but that beast off your mother.
Try being 11 the first time you see a lifeless body.
Try understanding that to the murderer it’s all funny.
Forced to understand that every life comes to an end.
These postcode wars don’t and won’t end.
There no way to mend the broken lives of the children forced to live in the ghetto, living in fear of whether they’d see tomorrow.
Try to understand that I don’t feel sorry for myself because Cathy Glass writes books about the abused, bruised and i refuse to think that my predicament is in any case worse.
I’ll shed tears for the moms because…
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If you haven’t met Belinda yet let this lovely poem be an introduction. She is a lady of love and light. Please visit the original to like and leave comments 🙂
I don’t do much reblogging of other’s work but I just had to share this with you. Paul F. Lenzi is one of my Featured Friends if you do not know him check him out! This poem is fabulous 🙂
Poesy plus Polemics
your voice is like whiskey
poured through gravel
it teaches us something
that song without stones
of an age can’t deliver
your music of scars
moves on chords
built from pain
long suffering sounds
we’d give our last heartbeat
to sing even once
your implausible poise
plays a plaintive arpeggio
climbing the sequence
of notes that express
the best senses of
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