He opened the door
Without knowing
That fire spreads more quickly
And we all breathe the same
Oxygen
Too late to shut out the images
That should never have been seen
Now burned and charred along
With their innocence
That can’t be reclaimed once
You’ve been raped
Bless the child who lit the match
That started the fire
Where oceans of water can’t
Drown the flames
Or wash away his parents’ sins
That smolder in the aftermath
So knock down the debris and rebuild
Or renovate and repair the damage
With the likelihood that every damp day
Thereafter
Will permeate that memory you are trying
So hard to erase
And the soil under which the door had stood
Will never know drought
Yet no matter how hard you try to plant
The seeds to bloom flowers
Only ugly weeds will emerge
Offering polluted oxygen you don't want to
Breathe
02.18.09
Rape of Innocence
Posted by Poetry Echoes at 4:16 PM
Labels: Family Secrets, Poetry
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2 comments:
This has a very powerful opening image. I love how you extend the fire metaphor throughout.
The metaphor hides the real story that occurred recently and the poem helped in some of the healing of the wound that is still somewhat raw.
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