April is National Child Abuse Prevention Month. Well, I was streaming the Boston Marathon this morning and I remembered the face of that little innocent boy that was murdered. And I think in part, from looking at my 3rd Grade class picture it triggered me to remember a poem I wrote several years ago. It is not a perfect poem, I might alter a few words … but, I don’t know.
The poem is essentially about a young girl. She lived within a fantasy world to escape reality, in my mind from abuse and neglect and lots of other nasty things.
I was not unlike the character. If you read the poem from that perspective I think you might understand how a young victim thinks, why they rarely talk and how precious every life is. If you read this and you are a parent, or grandparent, or whomever that mentors a child, I recommend giving them a hug. And so, I give you, Childish Dreams.
Childish Dreams
I dreamed I won the Olympic marathon, Man, after 26 miles, I ran into this big stadium,
Everybody cheered my name, bright lights, tv cameras aimed at me,
I was important, you see, I’m standing on the top stair, And I’m sweating like I just got out of a hot shower,
Gold Medal dangled down about mid-chest, It felt heavier than I’d guessed,
Then all these people played my country’s fight song…
It could happen, maybe, someday, you never know,
But when I opened my eyes, It was dark …
And I was all alone,
Alone,
I dreamed I cured Cancer, I did in an afternoon, It seemed so simple,
I showed my teacher just after math class, I saved the bald-headed kid from certain death,
I guess, and then we all played video games until my fingers went numb,
It could happen, maybe, someday, you never know,
But when I opened my eyes, It was dark …
And I was all alone,
Alone,
I dream a lot it seems, dreaming, dreaming, I like day dreaming at school,
Dreaming I’m someone else,
Being anybody else, but me … I do not want to be me,
Dreaming someone would listen to me, Maybe notice me,
But my dreams, they grow inside my head,
Some dreams are small, quiet,
Some dreams scare me, I don’t like those dreams … I run away from those dreams,
But I love most of my dreams, Even the ones I can hardly remember,
My dreams are my special place … a place I go to hide, I like to hide with my dreams,
Because my dreams always welcome me inside –
In my dreams, I’m safe, I’m smart, I’m pretty,
And my dreams never touch me, tease me, or scream at me,
My dreams always give me a hug, My dreams tell me I’m loved,
My dreams could come true, maybe, someday, you never know,
But when I open my eyes, It’s dark …
And I’m all alone,
Alone,
But I’ll keep dreaming, you know … I won’t stop dreaming,
My heart promised me, so, that, If I dreamed big enough,
Maybe my dreams would come true,
Maybe, someday, you never know, I’ll open my eyes,
And I’ll be …
NS
Leave a Reply