Hettie Van Zyl
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Poem "The Abused":
- published April 27, 2009
- viewed 32 times
Other poems by Hettie Van Zyl:
»A Falling Leaf«
»A Harsh Word«
»A Powerful tool«
»An Open Mind«
»Beginning of a new day«
»Broken Wing«
»Child of the street«
»Flames«
»Hailstorm«
»Happiness«
»how?«
»In The Eyes Of A Child«
»Joyful Tear«
»Love of a real friend«
»Miracle«
»Noah's Ark«
»Price For Peace«
»Real Love«
»She cried«
»That special friend«
»That Special You«
»The Gold Digger«
»The race«
»Time Limit«
»What Counts«
»When You Were Mine«
»Words«
»You«
Visit Hettie Van Zyl's profile page
Poem "The Abused":
- published April 27, 2009
- viewed 32 times
Other poems by Hettie Van Zyl:
»A Falling Leaf«»A Harsh Word«»A Powerful tool«»An Open Mind«»Beginning of a new day«»Broken Wing«»Child of the street«»Flames«»Hailstorm«»Happiness«»how?«»In The Eyes Of A Child«
»Joyful Tear«»Love of a real friend«»Miracle«»Noah's Ark«»Price For Peace«»Real Love«»She cried«
»That special friend«»That Special You«»The Gold Digger«»The race«»Time Limit«»What Counts«»When You Were Mine«»Words«»You«»The Abused«
A silent cry with no reply
deep inside from the inner hearts
of the abused.
Maybe a mother a woman or a child.
The loneliness and silence
so deeply intense, full of different
emotions,
that no one understands the feeling
the look in the eye sometimes wild.
Who can understand to reach a hand
helping that painful sruggle ends
now abusing the minds with
hurtful thoughts, waves of fears
and an eye that doesn't want to cry.
Of the so many never telling anything
the dark side that follows
like shadows where ever they go.
The abused.
Maybe a mother a woman or a child
living with this fearful struggle
till they die.
deep inside from the inner hearts
of the abused.
Maybe a mother a woman or a child.
The loneliness and silence
so deeply intense, full of different
emotions,
that no one understands the feeling
the look in the eye sometimes wild.
Who can understand to reach a hand
helping that painful sruggle ends
now abusing the minds with
hurtful thoughts, waves of fears
and an eye that doesn't want to cry.
Of the so many never telling anything
the dark side that follows
like shadows where ever they go.
The abused.
Maybe a mother a woman or a child
living with this fearful struggle
till they die.
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More writers from South AfricaRead all comments to this poem
Christopher Kudyahakudadirwe: "I, for one, have liked the way that you have dived into the subject of your poem. It gives that crunch that makes poetry what it is - a mystery to the ears of the unschooled in poetry! Your choice of words is growing every time that you are putting pen to paper. This shows that you are maturing in poetry composition. A few questions,however, should be answered by you: how are the people you are writing about being abused here? What kind of abuse is being perpetrated against them? Are there any possible solutions, or may be you are just chronicling the abuses only?"