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Array ( [sid] => 34348 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Compassion [time] => 2004-02-09 03:28:02 [hometext] => For Debbie, the child of my heart if not of my blood. [bodytext] => I met a child, while I myself was a youth.
Golden hair and bright blue eyes.
An angels face and a loving heart.
Within her heart a longing without diguise.

Her life was one of hardship and poverty.
Her mother unfit, her step-father worse.
Never enough food nor a warm bath.
Her childhood was a curse.

Left alone at the tender age of nine.
Grown men, numbering five, paid her a visit.
When they were done with her and had gone.
The fair child was no longer an innocent.

She ran for her life and hid in the woods.
Tears of pain fell from her eyes.
Shivering in the November wind
as blood dried on her thighs.

Three days she went cold and hungry.
Until she met one who understood like no other.
Safe, warm and well fed, she had but one request.
She wanted to call me "Mother." [comments] => 3 [counter] => 197 [topic] => 39 [informant] => Dark_Angel [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 11 [ratings] => 3 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Grief )
Compassion

Contributed by Dark_Angel on Monday, 9th February 2004 @ 03:28:02 AM in AEST
Topic: Grief



I met a child, while I myself was a youth.
Golden hair and bright blue eyes.
An angels face and a loving heart.
Within her heart a longing without diguise.

Her life was one of hardship and poverty.
Her mother unfit, her step-father worse.
Never enough food nor a warm bath.
Her childhood was a curse.

Left alone at the tender age of nine.
Grown men, numbering five, paid her a visit.
When they were done with her and had gone.
The fair child was no longer an innocent.

She ran for her life and hid in the woods.
Tears of pain fell from her eyes.
Shivering in the November wind
as blood dried on her thighs.

Three days she went cold and hungry.
Until she met one who understood like no other.
Safe, warm and well fed, she had but one request.
She wanted to call me "Mother."




Copyright © Dark_Angel ... [ 2004-02-09 03:28:02]
(Date/Time posted on site)





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Re: Compassion (User Rating: 1 )
by emystar on Monday, 9th February 2004 @ 03:42:27 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
Wow!
Very powerfull, work of art!
She gave u the ultimate compliment, huh?
Definently ashes turned 2 beauty.
luv, huggs,
emy


Re: Compassion (User Rating: 1 )
by emphaticplacebo on Monday, 9th February 2004 @ 09:39:35 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
Indeed, a very touching poem! I ejoyed reading it.. I certainly hope to hear more poems from you. Good Luck!

~DanO~


Re: Compassion (User Rating: 1 )
by Valerie_Pearson on Monday, 9th February 2004 @ 09:45:59 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
So touching, beautiful for her to call you mother, she gave you a well reserved honor, I used to care for addicted children, this write brought back alot of memories, take care Hugs to your heart, Val




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