A Child ‘s Journey Through Darkness

“Bringing Me Home, My Tapered Head Covered With
A Cap, Dressed In Pink, Holding Me In Her Lap”

It is said that a child’s body and mind

Are impressed in the womb and at birth

But even at conception it may begin,

Preparing the child for their journey

On earth –

Father is holding her with his arms,

She is sobbing in pain, the white

Clad doctor in alarm, rushes through

The hospital door, water is running

Down mother’s legs

I begin seeping out, when suddenly

I stop, they quickly pull over a bed,

In anguish she lies, a resistant

Birth, in suffering mother cries

With metal pincers they squeeze my

Head, with scissors cutting the

Umbilical cord, I have arrived!

I am set aside, as they mop up

Afterbirth and water, nurses running

To beds of screaming mothers

A darkness follows me, from an

Infant it encloses me

My eyes are squeezed in blackness

I am accompanied by sadness

Bringing me home my tapered head

Is covered with a cap, dressed in pink

She holds me in her lap as I sink into

A sleep

Waking to the sound of people having

Drinks, friends and family come to see

Me…

The day comes when I open my

Eyes, looking around at strange objects

My mind trying to grasp the colors, smells

And words of curse with adverse sounds

The very first words I hear

Even as I begin to creep there is something

That is wrong, weeping in my sleep, waking

To solemn thoughts, not knowing what

They are about…

The whisperers, the shadows from the womb

Have followed my birth…

With one fist in my mouth, trying not to cry

Clutching my doll, tears fall on my cheeks

She comes in my room and speaks

I awake with a jerk, crawling out of bed

Two years old, a group

Of men are acting strange and laughing

One comes and picks me up, throwing

Me in the air like a ball,

One time they miss, dropping me to the

Floor, people gaze, father rushes

Over holding me in his arms, in alarm

They take me home…

Oh, the strange pictures on the wall

Animals stare and terrify me, dogs

With cigarettes hanging from their

Mouth, sitting at a crap table playing

Poker with cards and chips*

I am in these people’s grip, I am being

Wagered, I am being put to the test

The stage has been set, could this be

The start of an oncoming illness

Of a child’s journey through darkness?

*’Bold Bluff’ popular pictures in their

Day, of dogs playing poker, hung on

Our walls

Excerpts from the book

‘A Child’s Journey Through Darkness’

To be continued with

‘And The Child Grew Up’

Read more at: www.donnaspoetry.com

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