?
?CanadaRox?
Guest
...other opinions? My childhood
I used to be sweet and innocent
believed dragons and unicorns were real.
I used to run and laugh.
And think everyone was good.
But those days ended long ago.
destroyed by words of cruelty.
then washed away by a small child's tears.
Now faded into memories.
I had never known how looks could change,
the way other people act.
I never knew that other children
could truly be so mean.
There was exclusion.
I was a social Pariah.
but worse than that were the hurtful words
like "slow" "fat" Or "wide".
Back then I saw everyone as the same.
But I've learned since then we're not.
there are people who are different,
and I'm okay with that.
but it was when the hurtful words came into play,
that i saw people for who they were.
My dad taught me a chant "sticks and stones..."
But honestly I'm not sure what hurts more.
The cuts from the sticks and stones were painful,
as for the names the wounds are still there.
Things like that had an impact,
that affects me to this day.
I find it hard to open up
and let others in.
Every time I let someone get close,
they cut me and open the wounds.
there are some that may never heal.
and some that have begun.
many people think I'm anti-social,
but I've Only developed an outer-shell.
To protect and hide all the pain,
so that the wounds can continue to heal.
So don't be offended if I seem rude or mean.
It is my sole line of self defence.
there is only one person that can get by it.
he saves me and protects me,
from all the hurtful words.
he is the one who holds the key to my secluded space.
this person is the guardian and healer,
of my wounded inner child.
OR
The scars
I used to seclude myself
to cover the wounds of my past.
caused by the daggers of speach.
They were in the process of healing.
But then I met someone,
and my armor melted away.
after such a long time I found
a person the could breach my defence.
For what felt like many years
he was the sole protector
of my many battle scars.
and more so with each day.
In the time that passed
he managed to get to the core.
I could feel the pain float away
it was as though it was never there.
But once again it happened.
I let someone get close to me.
And the one person I thought would never cut me
did so worse than ever before.
The wounds were bleeding,
My sole was rare.
the blade of his actions
pierced my heart.
My sadness began by cleaning my cuts.
My anger then stiched them closed.
but it was acceptance of what happened
that bandaged them up for good.
I suppose these wounds
as did the ones that came before them
will one day heal if given the time,
and the right defence.
Like the wounds a soilder endures in battle,
no matter how painful they maybe,
They will one day heal and fade.
But there will always be a scar.
I used to be sweet and innocent
believed dragons and unicorns were real.
I used to run and laugh.
And think everyone was good.
But those days ended long ago.
destroyed by words of cruelty.
then washed away by a small child's tears.
Now faded into memories.
I had never known how looks could change,
the way other people act.
I never knew that other children
could truly be so mean.
There was exclusion.
I was a social Pariah.
but worse than that were the hurtful words
like "slow" "fat" Or "wide".
Back then I saw everyone as the same.
But I've learned since then we're not.
there are people who are different,
and I'm okay with that.
but it was when the hurtful words came into play,
that i saw people for who they were.
My dad taught me a chant "sticks and stones..."
But honestly I'm not sure what hurts more.
The cuts from the sticks and stones were painful,
as for the names the wounds are still there.
Things like that had an impact,
that affects me to this day.
I find it hard to open up
and let others in.
Every time I let someone get close,
they cut me and open the wounds.
there are some that may never heal.
and some that have begun.
many people think I'm anti-social,
but I've Only developed an outer-shell.
To protect and hide all the pain,
so that the wounds can continue to heal.
So don't be offended if I seem rude or mean.
It is my sole line of self defence.
there is only one person that can get by it.
he saves me and protects me,
from all the hurtful words.
he is the one who holds the key to my secluded space.
this person is the guardian and healer,
of my wounded inner child.
OR
The scars
I used to seclude myself
to cover the wounds of my past.
caused by the daggers of speach.
They were in the process of healing.
But then I met someone,
and my armor melted away.
after such a long time I found
a person the could breach my defence.
For what felt like many years
he was the sole protector
of my many battle scars.
and more so with each day.
In the time that passed
he managed to get to the core.
I could feel the pain float away
it was as though it was never there.
But once again it happened.
I let someone get close to me.
And the one person I thought would never cut me
did so worse than ever before.
The wounds were bleeding,
My sole was rare.
the blade of his actions
pierced my heart.
My sadness began by cleaning my cuts.
My anger then stiched them closed.
but it was acceptance of what happened
that bandaged them up for good.
I suppose these wounds
as did the ones that came before them
will one day heal if given the time,
and the right defence.
Like the wounds a soilder endures in battle,
no matter how painful they maybe,
They will one day heal and fade.
But there will always be a scar.