“Beyond the Tears: A True Survivor’s Story” Lynn C. Tolson blog

TRUST

Like cupping a fragile frightened creature

In the shelter of your palm

Trust should be treated with such care

Its heartbeat guarded from every qualm

It is not a right and cannot be seized

It bears no gleam and cannot be stored

It is something free, which must be earned

Availed in friendship, through accord

A tiny flame protected from wind

That must be kindled, safely fanned

That can warm you with its steady blaze

Or be smothered by scattered sand

The lack of trust resembles climbing

A mountain clinging to a thread

Without it there’s no chance of peace

No stable ground on which to tread

Mere words can plunge to heart as deep

As the point of any blade

The edge of what is spoken

May cut sharper than the page

Faith will die without respect

If harshly handled or deceived

As Life itself must be preserved

Trust fails when disbelieved

It is the core of any family

The root of every nation

The navigation of a flock

A religion’s strong foundation

Trust lies in justice

And requires staunch defense

Like truth, it must flow both ways

Or be smithered by pretense

Through wicked deeds and careless acts

Once given, loyalty can be lost

Some fences shorn cannot be mended

There comes a point that cannot be crossed

Betrayal rarely is provoked

Its dagger blindly thrust

Forsaking kinship, breaking promises —

Be ever cautious with your trust.

Poem by Lori Lopez

www.trilllogicinnoventions.com/thetrilllogiclibrary.html

Lori R. Lopez

The Turnaround

Following disasters

Unnatural, Man-wrought

The road to survival is eternal

Arduous, rubble-fraught

The aftermath and trauma

Need a lifetime to mend

For such wounds run so deep

That the scars have no end

Only in screaming

Can the bottomless numbth be released

From a dungeon of exile

Where emotions have ceased

Where Justice is deaf

And abusers untried

Thus the victim has kept

Blame and suffering inside

Yet these chains can we obliterate

Hearts and Truth set free

When the silence is broken

From you to me

Transformations will ripple

Forge links more profound

From sharing to caring

We can all turnaround.

Copyright 2009 Lori R. Lopez

trilllogicinnoventions.com

http://www.facebook.com/pages/Lori-R-Lopez/16277817837

Angela(L) Lynn(R)

Poem written by Lynn C. Tolson as a tribute to Angela Shelton, documentary filmaker of Searching for Angela Shelton

Our stories were similar right from the start,

With fathers and brothers who ripped us apart.

Years are between us yet we are no different,

From child abuse, our emotions run rampant.

I’m too shy for words, and as old as her mother.

She’s young as my daughter, yet inspires like no other.

I wasted my life on drugs in self-blame,

Trying to run from the fear and the pain.

I kept my secrets in journals and books,

I wrote my story, but dared no one to look.

Angela took to the roads in search of her name;

She learned of others who felt just the same!

She knows what to say, she’s heard the truth,

From boys and girls, from aged and youth.

She pilots a mission and abused come on board,

There’s healing for one, one-million, and more.

She’s daring and caring and wise beyond years,

She’ll listen, she’ll answer, then she will share.

She travels and speaks, she won’t let you down,

In cities, at college, in every small town.

Her movement and mission gave momentum to mine,

My memoir was shelved, she said, “Go, Lynn, it’s time.”

She’s fun and she’s funny, outspoken, outrageous,

She is so brave, she makes me courageous.

She’s no victim, no stranger, no secret survivor,

She’s our hero, our shero, my sister, as thriver.

“Footsteps in the Dark”

Mommy says Angel it’s time for bed,

put on your nightgown, and lay down your head.

I’ll finish these dishes, and come tuck you in,

I’ll read you the story of The Fish’s Pink Fins.

I ran up to my bedroom where my dollies live,

put on my nighty, and to each a hug I’d give.

I hear Mommy coming to say her goodnight,

after she reads me a story she’ll turn out my light.

I shudder to think about being left all alone,

I wish I were a little frog that could hide under a stone.

I hear Mommy and her boyfriend talking real loud,

I hope they aren’t fighting about ‘three’s a crowd.’

Finally it’s still, they must be asleep,

I’ve been such a good girl and never uttered a peep.

Thats when I hear his footsteps in the dark,

he enters my room, on my bed he does park.

He tells me to be quiet, that I’m his little dove,

I feel his hands on my body, he says it’s making love.

I remember to this day, the pain, and the sensation,

my childhood stolen, the feeling of degradation.

This offensive behavior went on for years,

until finally at eighteen, I left home in tears.

Why didn’t she save me, instead of turn a blind eye,

I will never forget, or forgive her, until the day I die…

____________________________________________________________

fictional poem by Charleen (Chatty) Micheles: editor, ghostwriter/author

Thank you, Chatty, for submitting this poem to TEARS on behalf of all children who have been abused.