I was physically and emotionally abused by my mother, life was hell. My dad was absent most of the time. She told me how much she hated me constantly and that I had spoiled her social life. I was the only kid at primary school who didn't have anyone to take them or pick them up. I never had the correct school uniform and I was a target for every bully around. People who knew what was happening only told me that after my mum died. I just got up on my 16th birthday as soon as, come got a passport and left England but more importantly her. She has damaged me so very much that now after having daughters of my own I have to constantly know that I love and need them. However after having my girls I do not understand why my own mum enjoyed causing me harm, I would gladly give my life for my girls. My mum taught me how not to be a mum like her and show love always to my children and each day I tell them how much I love them. When she died I didn't cry, I found a peace for the 1st time.
Thank You John. I appreciate your encouraging comment. So pleased you enjoyed my "Believe" poem.
Hi, Judy. I really appreciate for these beautiful masterpiece, "believe". Don' stop writing. Thanks for sharing.
In catholic grade school in the late 1950s we memorized lots of poetry. This, Daffodills, was my favorite. Frequently the nuns set them to familiar songs to help memorize them.
Little Brook.
Oh March that blusters.
To name a few more
I am carrying a line of this poem of yours into making a sunlit forest painting. I've needed inspiration to learn how to paint luminous light. It's been a journey and I've not mastered the techniques quite yet but keeping in my mind the words "we'll walk where sunlight sets the forest's leaves aglow" may help me along the way. Lovely writing Belinda.
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This poem has really touched me because I have been going through things since I was a baby. My parents left me when I was little and after that I built a wall so no one would see my weakness. My brother had always thought that our parents wanted us but it's not true. Every time that my family would talk about my parents I would act like I don't care or I don't know who those people are. But now since I'm older I feel like I don't belong or like I don't exist anymore and all I need to know is if there is still one person that still wants me around and that there is someone there to hear me when I scream for help.
Thanks, John, I appreciate the comment, and as long as I can still think, I will still be writing.
Jac Judy
Please Teah, I don't want you to lose faith in your ability to write. Don't stop writing. Thanks for sharing.
You and your mom really inspired me with this poem, Stacy. Don't stop writing. Thanks for sharing.
Hi, Judy. I loved the way you emphasize on music, poems and poets. Don't stop writing.
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