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"I hope you know why I'm crying;  as my tears know you're the cause" Elnaz
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Three Doors

Stuck in a room; sitting all alone
The little girl cries; no one cares from home
A little single tear; dies there from her eyes
It starts to roll down; holding as she cries

And darkness in the room, she looks out ahead
Surrounding her slowly; are three doors instead
They are all standing there; ready to explore
She just looks at them; wanting to ignore

She gingerly gets up; in the room of loss and despair
Does it really matter; does anyone really care?
And she goes over; to the door marked number one
Its now coloured black; it really looks like no fun

And gingerly she opens; that door there of disgrace
She just sits there and gets ready; the door slams in her face!
And there it hits her nose; the blood pours down her cheeks
The black eye she gets; keeps her going for weeks and weeks

Why venture to door two; she says in her mind
Remembering the door slam; was that all she would find??
So getting the courage again; she opens the door
And little whispers of I don't believe you; knocks her to the floor

At least its not an injury, but emotionally she is dead
It really plays so solidly; knocking her in the head
So really who would try; door number three?
Marked there so bold; she sits there and wonders WHY ME?

And there is a person; there calling out fair
What did he do to you; I really do care?
Do I trust this person here; to keep my secret safe
Do I just try again; a blonde little poor waif?

You sit back and stare, in that little room
Stuck in the middle; all of a sudden you feel doom
And there suddenly; you can take it all away
Not bother with the doors; get stuck in the sway?

But as you sit and contemplate; take a drink or two
You might consider a knife, jumping from the bridge with you
Maybe a drug or three, to take away the pain
Because even these doors; there is nothing to gain

So again you sit and try; as you struggle to door three
Drunk from the desperation; of everyone blaming me
There is a little angel, all there in pretty blonde
Just sitting there waiting; with her magic wand

She is just sitting in her chair, waiting there to
"Just tell me of the monsters, waiting there for you"
And you just stare; "What this one really wants to know?"
She won't slam the door; or just scream at me to go?

And you start to ball, that little girl in blonde
You start to scream and shake, and cry just there beyond
As you leave the darkness behind, as you follow through the door
That little dark room, with its circle on the floor

And now years later, as you write these little words
You know just back there, you were trying to be heard
Enclosed in your room, there darkness filled the world
Slowly telling your story, your life become unfurled

And there as you turn; leaving the doors behind
What had kept you prisoner, staying there so unkind
You see above the exterior, as you run out so free
The solid words standing firm; saying I LOVE ME.



There are many stages of dealing with sexual abuse and assault. I could not cover them all here. I hope that this short poem is of inspiration to you.


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