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Walter C. Edwards


The Nightmares


The nightmares came back,
beaten once again,
by hands long since dead,
abused by a drunken loser,
angry at the fate,
he was given,
but delivered to child,
with no crime committed,
in the the middle of the night,
drag away and out of slumber,
to be hit, kicked and hurt, once more,
with no remorse,
some scars my never heal,
and I thought I was over it.

Submitted: Monday, May 05, 2014

Topic of this poem: abuse


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  • Rookie - 0 Points Colleen Courtney (5/6/2014 5:35:00 PM)

    I don't think anyone can ever truly recover from abuse. I think a part of it imbeds itself in your soul and never truly let's go. Just hope those who suffer can somehow find a way to Cope and move on to find happiness. This is a very nerve touching write. Will remain in the memory for days to come. (Report) Reply

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