Music playing is "Imagine"

Rainbow Dancer's Abuse Poetry

Unspeakable Acts
Here comes that feeling again;
     Intrusive images of unspeakable acts
Perpetrated upon me by my mother;
     And I struggle to breathe - I need to flee!

Here comes the little girl again, silently screaming in darkness,
     Signaling memories of unspeakable acts,
Too terrible to voice to another soul,
     And I flee to my safe place and pray for oblivion!

Here comes the pain again,
     Terrible, consuming visions of unspeakable acts,
That leave me terrified and huddled in my bed,
     Overwhelmed, horrified, and praying for death!

Here comes the grief again, and
     Never-ending images of unspeakable acts,
That frighten me into crying out for help,
     Shaken, heartsick, longing for relief!

Here come the tears again,
     As I tell you about unspeakable acts,
And you challenge me to look at your face
     And find disgust there!

Here comes the hope again,
     As I look into your eyes
And I find only compassion and caring,
     And I start to want to live again!

                            Lynne Newman

You hurt me mother!
     You damaged my body and spirit!
And when your rage was spent,
     You labeled me CONTAMINATED!

It was you who contaminated me, mother!
     With your violent touch,
And your viscious tongue,
     And I am filled with bitter rage!

How dare you, mother!
     How dare you violate me so'
Invading my body, raping me,
     With any handy object!

In pain and humiliation,
     I screamed a silent scream,
Terrified of your threats to kill me,
     If anyone discovered what you'd done.

I've repressed memories and feelings
     For too many years,
And my body trembles now,
     As I relive the pain of your violent acts!

No longer do I scream alone in darkness, mother!
     My voice is heard in many places,
With loving friends to hold me up,
     As I reclaim the life I'd lost to your contaminated touch!

                            Lynne Newman

Used with permission
Angel Art by Eve Gallery
Bless the Children
God bless the babies,
     Asleep in their beds,
With the softest of pillows
     To cradle their heads.

And please hold them safe,
     All snuggled down deep
Protected from horrors
     That interrupt sleep.

Oh, God, love the children
     Who cry out in fright,
With bodies that tremble
     In fear, in the night.

Please help the children
     In terror and pain,
As parents abuse them
     Again and again.

God bless the babies
     At night while they sleep,
With the gentlest of dreams,
     So no child needs to weep!

                       Lynne Newman

Written on my birthday, 11/25/92

Window to the Soul
Newborn child, eyes open wide,
     Does someone answer when you cry?
Does someone keep you snug and warm,
     And are you glad that you were born?

Baby with the soft brown hair,
     Is there always someone there?
Does someone keep you soft and sweet,
     And sing to you as you fall asleep?

Baby with your eyes so old,
     Does someone warm you when you're cold?
Does someone rock you to and fro'
     And watch with wonder as you grow?

Dear baby, I feel pain and hurt,
     Coming from your eyes.
Did they ignore you when you called?
     Did no one hear your cries?

Baby, your eyes call to me,
     I wish that I knew why,
Each time I see your picture,
     I feel the need to cry.

Little baby did they hurt you?
      Did they say that you'd feel good?
And did somebody  touch you,
     In ways nobody should?

Little girl, soft and warm,
     You need to know you did no wrong.
You need to hear, loud and true,
      That a terrible wrong was done to you.

Grown up woman, pain filled eyes,
     Give yourself a chance to cry.
Let the pain out, let it go...
     And cleanse the window to your soul!

                                 Lynne Newman

Ugly Duckling
Oh ugly duck with soft duck down,
      You look so ugly, people frown.
Your silly feathers, gawky beak,
      Defy description, I can't speak!

You see yourself in the glass-clear lake,
     And feel that you are God's mistake;
All the duckies laugh at you;
     It's no small wonder that you're blue!

Month's go by and oh, my word!
      You've turned into a gorgeous bird!
You've suffered through your pain and fearm
     And ugly feelings disappeared.

Through the water, now you glide,
      Downy feathers puffed with pride.
Other duckies envy you;
     They see your courage shining through!

                             Lynne Newman

God Is Weeping
It's dark and cold down here,
     A child curls up and cries;
God sadly shakes His head,
     As tears fall from His eyes.

A mother beats her little girl,
     Blow after violent blow,
And God protests in helpless rage
     As He views the scene below.

The little girl lies sleeping;
     Her father stumbles in,
And God protests in horror, 
     As he rapes his child again.

He bends His head in sorrow,
     Lightning fills the sky;
Rain storms flood the earth below,
     And God shudders as he cries.

                       Lynne Newman

Shattered Spirit
Like a piece of polished glass
     They all look through me,
And no-one ever sees,
     The pain behind my phoney smile.

I feel invisible and fragile.
     CRASH!  The glass breaks
And the world can finally see
     The jagged splinters of my shattered spirit!

                           Lynne Newman

The monsters in my nightmares
     Don't have horns or tails.
No blazing eyes of red,
     No long sharp claws for nails.

The monsters in my nightmares
     Are not what you'd suppose.
They look the same as you and me
     All dressed up in their clothes.

             Lynne Newman

Circle of Darkness
In the circle of darkness
     No light dares to shine;
Their bodies are moving,
     Circling mine.

The noises start mounting,
     None of them clear;
As darkness surrounds me,
     I disappear.

In this dark circle,
     I'm no longer whole;
They can torture my body,
     But can't touch my soul!

                Lynne Newman

It's About Children
It's about children,
     Born soft and new,
Then treated as objects,
     By adults like you!

It's about children,
     Hurt by your touch;
And the children endure it...
     They need you so much!

Yes, it's about children,
     Confused, filled with pain;
When you tell them you love them,
     But your touch creates shame!

Oh, it's about children,
Once soft and new,
Who then become adults,
     As tormented as you!

             Lynne Newman

Rest In Peace
Mother, you were a tortured soul,
     And you hurt me
More than words can tell!

My heart grieves that you and I
     Never experienced
A loving mother-daughter bond.

I know that deep within your pain
     A spirit struggled to live,
And she could see the colors of the world!

For it was also you who took the time
     To show me beauty
In the brilliant flowers and the bright blue sky.

I am grateful for that gift, mother,
     And my heart fills with joy,
As I glory in the daily miracles I see.

I pray you are in a lovely place,
     Free of rage and grief and pain.
Rest in peace, mother.  I wish you peace.

            Lynne Newman

Page 2 of Abuse Poetry

A Single Red Rose

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Rainbow Connections


All Poetry & Personal Writings: © 1992-1997 Lynne Newman