Searching Within Yet, Hidden Within Poem by Ellen Ni Bheachain

Searching for them,
While hidden within,
Not telling them all,
That you hold within,
Telling only what,
Needs to be known,
While dealing with,
Whats all around,
You is unknown,
To what is going on,

Wondering why they,
Would want to be you,
Then finding out that,
Thats what they do,
And do it,
A lot of the time,
Take, take, take,
Leaving others,
Hurt and abused,
Behind,
And blame it on you,

They blame it on you,
With the use,
Of your name,
So you have to,
Deal with it and try and help,
Solve,
For the victims,
They have done and robbed,

Yet,
You can only be in one place,
At one time,
So,
While they are out and about,
With the use of yours,
And others names,
In commiting crimes and injuries,
To others,
While you and the others blamed,
Have to help in,
Solving,
By locating who are these that do that,
To others with you and others names,

So,
Finding out who they are,
And making sure you have,
Their real names,
Leads you to the rest,
Done that same way,
To where your names,
And the names of those,
That commit the crimes are,
Of two different places,
In nations and flags in placements,

Searching for them,
While keeping hidden within,
Not being able to be fully youself,
And distressed and irate because of it,
For the fear of these felons,
And what they do in crime,
With the use of your name,
Is a major dangerous crime,

Going on in pretense,
Telling yourself you are alright,
Till,
Far off you must fly,
Letting it all out,
And to cry,
For what they took,
And did to others,
Leaves you tarnish,
Bruised and battered,
When its your name that,
Got the blame,

While,
You that is,
The name that they use,
In mentioned and on paper,
When arrested or caught up with,
After committing such horror and shame,
To their victims and those,
That they use and take the name of,
To blame,
So they get away,

Searching,
Seeing,
Beliving all,
That seemed strange,
Or enstranged,
When first you meet them,
By introducing yourself,
By your name that was used,
Hearing what was done to them,
Yet,
Its not your face,
That they saw,
When it was been done to them,
But the face of those that did do that,
To these,
Victims of crime,

Yet,
It is your name and identity,
That was used to blame,
So,
Law and files say this of you,
On paper and records,
Yet,
When all is said,
And all is done,
Where situations,
Are clarified,
And facts and details,
Put the records,
Straight and detailed,

It is then that you know,
Its time to sit,
Gather what little is left,
To begin again,
With little or noting,
Yet,
This commissioned sheild,
Held for family name and honour,
You return with pleasure,
From all you have been put through,
You were left to be worked,
So as to bring in to agency sent,
And show in evidence,
What did what,
And to whom,

Tis not a way to have to see,
Life and its horrors,
Of serials with vendetta's
Taking it out on you,
And on others,
Till,
Those that do that,
Have to be found,
And caught at it,
So,
To be named by their names,
So justice can prevail,
And bring them in,
For judgement,

So then,
What is hidden within,
You,
Your true self,
Can again go away,
And know,
Tis,
Now safe,
Safe to,
Scream,

So,
You can let it all out,
Of what it was like,
To suffer and indure,
Of been the victim,
In the blame games,
That they played,
On you,
And the others,

The group of the names,
The group of those blamed,
The group that did do it,
Then the group of,
The victims put through it,

Those,
Subjected to such ways,
So had to stay for a time,
Hidden away,
Till,
Those blamed and with agency,
Had to be comissioned to not tell,

Till,
Those that did do all that,
Were apprehended,
And taken in,
For judge and jury,
To see and hear,
So,
Judgement could be placed on them,
And they put away,
To pay for the crimes,
They committed against us all,
So we all could,
Be and stand still again.