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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

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Posted

The balloon was red and glowing in his hands

The sun shone through it reflecting on his face

His big smile said exactly where he was

A very happy kid in a happy place

 

His mom looked down and ruffled up his hair

The day at the fete had been so full of fun

They headed up the hill, his hand in hers

Their bodies were outlined in the setting sun

 

As they reached the gate the child ran ahead

Eager to show pappa what he won that day

Pappa took his cigar and burst the balloon

Once more the boy's spirit had been washed away

Posted

haha parm, trust you.

 

The poem was written to reflect that not all abuse has to be physical or indeed continuous to harm, sometimes the smallest things we do as adults can hurt children in ways we don't even know. A wrong word here, a small action there, these too are the things remembered by children, not just the big fights or the loud rows, some of my most painful memories are of a few words said without thinking, or something done in fun that was not amusing to me as a child. Sorry it is so sad.

Posted

Aptly named, well executed.

 

I enjoyed this, although the sadness does permeate it eventually. Even so, emotion cannot overcome talent... or maybe it can. What do I know?

 

I would love to read more.

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