"𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑠 𝑖𝑛 𝑏𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑘 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑡𝑒, 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑘𝑠 𝑖𝑛 𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑦 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑠 𝑖𝑛 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑜𝑢𝑟"She stood with her back
To the white, wooden door.
Barely blocking out the voices,
The screams of a broken soul,
Barely two floors below.She gazed down at her hands,
Covered in blood,
Her skin matted with scars,
The result of what one would call,
Tough love.She took one step further,
As she looked down to the meadow beyond.
The pale pink roses,
Beckoning her to join them.
To be with with each other.She glanced back at the shards of glass,
Peaking out from under her bed,
Remembering how easy it was to hurt herself,
Rather than open up,
To the unknown and call for help.One more step,
And then another.
The shouts were getting closer and louder,
Reminder her of all the times she would suffer,
From the anger of her drunkard father.But she shook her head,
Thoughts of pain long forgotten.
As she smiled with true peace on her face,
And took her final step,
Through the window to freedom.Juxt another victim, memories already gone.
Just an article in a newspaper,
Or part of a report on the TV screen.
Just a faded memory of a young girls story,
That has started to rotten.If you see someone fighting,
Don't ignore their whispers for help.
Don't let another fall in the abyss of hopelessness,
Lift them up and be stay with them,
Step by step.By Shamiah James Blugh
Window to Freedom
Created and published on Wednesday, June 9th, 2021
Edited and published again on Friday, June 25th, 2021
YOU ARE READING
Soliloquy - A Book of Poetry
Poetry𝑇𝑟𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑠 𝑓𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒 𝑚𝑦 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑑... "𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚑𝚞𝚗𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚗, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎...