Washed Away

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When I was six years old
I wore cotton pajamas
dotted in small flowers
that were lacy at the sleeves

When I was six years old
I ran in cotton pajamas
and hid in my father’s bathroom
hoping to disappear

When I was six years old
I pressed my back to tiles
and prayed the shower would pour
and wash me down the drain

When I was six years old
he found me in the shower
and I forget the rest
and I never was the same

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4 Comments
saw_man1saw_man1over 18 years ago
Oh God No!

No one could ever be the same. This one hurts.

RhymeFairyRhymeFairyover 18 years ago
Shattered~

Oh my ... I reread this several times too.

Yes, it is a hard read. I think was an even harder write.

I have written some things like this before. I know the pain and anguish. Also the purge ...

I can only say this poem touches us all differently. Love will pour out - then anger FOR the child. What she went through.

Innocence is something we should treasure and value. Hope this small child is loved and very much valued today, for I do know YOU my friend are a great poet and have a bright intelligent mind. Huggs and a shoulder here if you happen to need it ~

LeBrozLeBrozalmost 19 years ago
~~

Read this several times today and decided that this is a read too hard, inviting visions of extreme pay-back to the perpetrator who has so savaged innocence.......for starters, have him sit naked atop the fire ant mound - and any true lady of the South knows what THAT will do........

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 19 years ago
these kinds of pens

are hard for me...as I helped my very best friends unravel the adoptive parent abuse she went through ..it was a very draining experience...thanks for sharing...bluerains

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