Fawning Trauma's Psychological Grip Poem by James McLain

In families formed by wounds unseen,
Fawns a soul with scars too deep to clean,
Trauma's grip, a relentless hold,
A child's pain, now grown and cold.

Haunted echoes whisper in the night,
Inability to grasp adulthood's light,
Fractured pieces yearning to be whole,
Yet struggles persist to take control.

Past's clasp cripples the will to soar,
A heart ensnared, unable to explore,
But hope resides within each shattered part,
Mending the fawn, healing the wounded heart.