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We encourage anyone who has written poetry or prose relating to their horrific experiences to share with us such efforts. By relating the seemingly unending grief may gather strength from this process and unify us in making society aware of that which has changed us forever.
"BASTARD BOYFRIEND"
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I pray to Jesus to make me fly Lift me up high to the sky I am so afraid I want to die but not in the arms of this angry guy You hold me to the ground My hand struggles for your wrist Again beaten down By your cold hard fist If I don't make it through tonight I pray that he will hide me In a place my loved ones wont find me I don't want mommy to see my bruised naked body The looks of it all would sadden the coldest of hearts But no not his, He doesn't care He's making his mark and pulling my hair My pride is not gone, yet I feel so filthy Not ready to admit defeat I'm too ashamed to say I've been beat I hate his voice, I hate his nose, I hate the rags that were once my clothes, I hate these feelings I hold inside, I hate that his love for me has died |
What would happen if I try and leave I don't want a scene I want this to end clean So ashamed of my weakness He says the struggle is not enough As my nose is still bleeding Love is so painful So misleading I hope there is a day I get back what he's taken away Somehow I feel I am at fault I am the wound and he is the salt People think he is the nicest guy but I think he likes to see me cry So I fight the tears and try to be silent as I wonder if love is always this violent Krissyo E |
I USE TO HAVE THIS LIGHT INSIDE
BUT NOW THAT LIGHT IS GONE
BECAUSE OF YOUR PRIDE AND SELFISHNESS
I REALLY CAN'T CARRY ON
I USE TO HAVE THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS
BUT NOW MY SOUL IS BLACK
I CAN'T BELIEVE WHAT YOU HAVE TAKEN
AND I WONDER WILL I EVER GET IT BACK
IT'S HARD TO GO ON DAY TO DAY
BUT THEY SAY I MUST
BUT NOW THAT YOU HAVE DONE THIS TO ME I DON'T KNOW WHO I CAN TRUST
WELL ITS BEEN FIVE MONTHS NOW
AND THE STRUGGLE'S NOT YET DONE
BUT THE ONE THING I CAN SAY FOR SURE IS I HAVE NOT LET YOU WON...
~TASHA~
For me, no gavel, hammers The Scales were never weighted.
My Crime was that of a victim, My life, was the price I paid.
And when my life was taken, Why weren't my rights read?
And the Statement, "overruled" When they pronounced me dead?
I'll never hear my rights, Nor take the witness stand,
No attorney to defend me, My fate was in a killer's hand.
Now the courtroom's crowded As the defendant pleads the case.
With just the glimmer of a tear, Cold eyes on a straight face
But oh, if I could take the stand... If they could witness my last breath,
Could they live with the terror that I went through in death?
If they could hear my pleading cries, and see the hatred in that face,
Then At last, we'd know, the scales had "Been balanced" in this case.
If I could, I'd tell the jury exactly how it was,
The fear and pain that I went through, Struck down without a cause.
Did the jury carefully weigh it all as they listened to the plea?
There were no emotions, showing now, just the hope of going free...
The final verdict now is in as the defendant stands in tears,
If only I had done as well... Given ten to twenty years.
Author unknown - Poem shared by yet another bereaved mother...
Son, you're in our thoughts every single day,
And so is our anger towards reckless horseplay.
A thoughtless friend, a careless act...
Your senseless death, these are fact.
The truth is that you're gone forever
Forever 18... forever and ever
Your last words are here and painfully quoted...
"Hey buddy, is that thing loaded?"
The consequences never even thought about
Your friends response "I don't know...let's find out"
In that moment your life was taken...
Leaving a family unbearably shaken
Struggling to understand why there is no justice
Toward your killer, but Son, please trust us...
We will not let your death be for not
Our aim, reckless horseplay will be stopped.
Why should age be a lawful excuse
To allow such devastating, life ending abuse?
The boy that did this was around your same age
There lies the injustice, our hurt, and our rage.
Old enough to know better yet his life goes on
While yours was cut short, it's just simply wrong!
Son, your in our thoughts every single day...
And so is our anger toward reckless horseplay...
He's gone now taken with hatred and anger
his smiling face never to be seen again on this earth
so unaware of the love that many had for him
his emptiness and anger gone
replaced with light and love
his departure leaving us angry
empty tears fall freely
rage and confusion overrides all rational thoughts
why, why did they have to kill him
leaving us empty
he was just a boy with a powerful spirit
full of life and energy
protective over his brothers
they looked up to him
its been said he was the most awesome brother in the world
revenge is what they want
to expel the anguish that tears there young hearts
why, why did they take him
we want to laugh with him
to have another chance to say I love you.
To see his long black hair blow in the wind
as he joked women always like a man with long hair
playfully tossing it about while smiling
pretending to recall his conquests
but never participating in life as a Romeo
just an image he liked to portray
just a shy little boy who wanted to be loved
why, why did they take him
leaving us so empty and full of questions
they took him and still hold him a prisoner of their insanity
he lies cold and dirty
his beautiful long hair stiff and matted with his blood
never again to blow in the wind or be tossed about
the tattoo of an eagle will never adorn his young body
why why did you take him from us
we loved him
we argued as families do and maybe more so
but we still loved him
a mothers love is forever
he will always be the 7lb 1oz baby held to my breast
eagerly suckling
large brown eyes filled with wonder
small hands grasping at life
rosy cheeks dimpled with a smile
he came into this world only to be taken after a short while
why, why did you take him
leaving us with such bitterness and rage
the kind that takes a toll on the mind and body
we pray and pray some more
trying to find an answer to the insanity that has none
it feels so unjust
why, why did you have to take him
we loved him so
we will remember him always
the laughing youth that enjoyed life
always having patience with his brothers
so why, why did you have to take him
he was our son, brother nephew and grandson
and we loved him
You Bastards, You Bastards, You Son of a Bitch
I don't mean to attack your mother but I am angry
so very angry
why, why did you take my son?
I wrote this about two weeks after we were notified
people keep saying pick up your life and go on
but how do I do that?
It hurts so much--Tammy Trail.
We walk around with a smile on our face.
We move through time and people think we are okay.
Still, the wounds are there, never really healing.
An emptiness, never really being filled.
We are the victims of Violent Crime.
Time passes and people forget what has happened.
Sometimes remembering as a passing thought.
Shattered lives are never able to forget.
Always picking up pieces, trying to put them together.
We go on day by day, victims of violent crime.
Murder, rape, suicide and everything in between.
We wear masks so you can't see the pain.
Holding onto pictures and memories of what is gone.
Wanting things to be alright again, just as they were.
But knowing they never will be again.
To know they have not been forgotten by the world.
To know that someone understands and cares.
To hope that justice will be served.
But knowing that most likely not.
Victims of Violent Crime go on.
This next poem I wrote after the bombing in Okalahoma.
BORN TO BE AN ANGEL
As we hear the first cry of our little one, such an awe goes through us. We look at those tiny little fingers and toes. Bright eyes looking up at us with wonder. How each breath they take gives more to use. Truly they are our angels. In our minds we wonder what this little bundle could grow to be. Doctor, Lawyer, Indian Chief, someone great. It doesn't matter we know that their special to us and cam only be the best at what ever. Truly they are our angels. Sometime our little ones are more special then we ever could believe. Put here on earth to stay only a short time. To touch our heart and move on to a more glories job. Called home to our Lord. Truly they are born to be an angel. With each day and night we wonder why we have to go on. Looking at each star and behind each cloud, hoping for a glimpse of them. We know they are there looking and waiting for us, to be together again at another time. Then we can be with our angel again.
I wish you were here,
Here to stay.
But the dear Lord took you away.
My heart aches because I'm alone,
I wish you'd wake up and come home.
You left so many ones behind,
I can never get you off my mind.
I think of you all day long,
You were so kind and never did wrong.
Your sweet voice, your loving smile,
Your love for us could stretch a mile.
I have mourned so much, and I have cried,
But I know you'll always be by my side.
Your gentle kiss upon my cheek,
I know in Heaven we will meet.
For Connie G. Jarvise
by her loving granddaughter Katie Jarvise
Abe NO PAROLE! (FOR THE VICTIMS)
Families weeping at the grave Of a loved one who was killed Victims of rape or abuse With the fear that is instilled. Terror from the terrorist Who preys on innocents Crimes against humanity That make no earthly sense.
They don't have rights read to them (Because, it seems, there's none) They can't get the free lawyer (And sometimes, more than one.) They don't have the same choices - They can't plea-bargain a deal - They must live with the verdict - There's no way they can appeal. They don't get free room and board Doctors, dentists, and eye care - No one, they can complain to If they aren't treated fair. They can't get time off For their good behavior - They can't get out on parole For, their pain is always there. The victims are victimized Again, by the legal system That cares more for the criminal Than it does for them.
COPYRIGHT 1997 BY DEL "ABE" JONES
615-251-3045 WK 615-797-5034 HM 11-7-97
Somewhere in my dreams tonight
I'll see you standing there
You look at me with a smile
"Life isn't always fair"
You say you were chosen for his
garden
His preciously hand picked bouquet
"God really needed me, Mom,
That's why I couldn't stay"
It's said to be that angels
Are sent from above
I've always had my angel
My son - whose heart was filled with love
Wherever the ocean meets the sky
There will be memories of you and I
When I look up at that sky so blue
All I see are visions of you
"While there's a heart in me, you'll be a part of me."
Deborah Sieg
Survivor of Victim
