Silence or screams,
no in-between...
a hard place to grow,
with nothing to know
but rippling confusion

and the occasional contusion -
mostly around the heart.
There wasn't a part
of the girl's little life
that wasn't derived

from a woman and a man
who could not command
a bit of love or respect
from each other. They left
their offspring to find

a pilfered mine
of lazy regret - misshapen
truths, she sharply inhaled them.
Girls grow into women
with hopes well-limned

despite sorry upbringings,
never once feeling
a hand print of love.
One day a man stood above
her and said that he would

touch her in love but he could
not for he was diminished too
by his own demons, not a few...
So, her life leans with the wind
with yet a form of hope, much thinned.


(3.26.06 - - For you, Little Spirit...)

Esther Leclerc

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/never-once/