A Poetic Dose of Reality

My friend Tara posted a poem on Facebook.

It spoke much about the things we have come to know at Wings Like Eagles.  About lives shaped horribly by dysfunctional sickness that is contagious, and passed on to subsequent generations.  We work hard to open the eyes of families in Crisis, so that they see the need to break negative cycles and change the modi operandi of their forefathers.

It also challenges our thinking, and quickness of judgement toward children in our community who act out.  Oftentimes, their behavior is indicative of something dark, and broken at home.   Rather than our judgement, these families need our love.

I do not know who wrote the poem, but if you do, I'd love it if you'd let me know, so that I can credit, and thank the writer.

The poem:

Behind closed doors you will never know. The "private" lives that friends don't show. 

It happens in the best of places. And shows up first on children's faces. 

First, the look of their sad eyes. Then their voice complete with sighs. 

They don't talk much, nor do they play. You ask them why, but they won't say. 

They bear the weight of parents' sin. Of daily abuse and anger turned in. 

They have that look that says "don't touch," I've had enough, in fact too much. 

They fight with all to show their power. But while at home they sit and cower. 

To wait upon their nightly whip. Sometimes from hands, sometimes from lips. 

It matters not where comes the pain. From stinging slaps or words of shame. 

'Cause as they grow in size and age, their minds still fill with thoughts of rage. 

And when they wed and parents are, they still bear the wounds and have deep scars. 

That bind them in so many ways, to their past lives which they replay,

And on and on the cycle goes, unless it stops and we can show: 

That "private" lives in "private" places. Ruin future lives in future spaces. 

So be not silent, don't turn in fear. Reach for their hand, give them your ear. 

With gifts of love, touch their young heart. And the cycle of hate, you'll surely part.