That Night MAG

By Anonymous


Slowly, the darkness of that night covered each sleeping child.

Its blanket so heavy, so bearing,

That it silenced the steady hum of innocent breath.

It stole the vibrant smiles of youth from their dreaming faces

And offered nothing in return.

Not even a trace of reason.

And in the morning each felt the loss.

The touch of the intruder was still fresh on their lips.

So new and so foreign, that the coldness was shocking.

The taste so repulsive, each mouth cried for water.

To rinse away the feeling.

To forever erase the midnight invasion.

And through the day, each child walked

Down the halls they had a thousand times before.

yet, looks of fear and tears of sadness

Showed a faint and distorted knowledge

That they must learn.

Learn to say good-bye.

Exhaustion from their thoughts and weakness in their knees

Brought quick and heavy sleep to the eyelids of these children.

The day was over. The ritual passed.

Fearful arms embraced reality in the midst of life's confusion.

Yet, they had lost that one night's smile.

They had given that one long day.

Down paved highways, yellow brick roads, or paths less traveled

These children moved on and on and on on on ...

Scared to stop and wonder.

Scared of looking back, back, back to ...

To what had happened.

To what they had lost.

Unable to forget the touch of the rapist, the intruder,

Who had taken last night's smile, one child sat. Awake.

And knowing that that one smile was gone, always.

He wished not to say good-bye.

He wished only to say good-night,


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This article has 1 comment.

on Jun. 3 2011 at 3:25 pm
collegegirladventures GOLD, Mequon, Wisconsin
10 articles 8 photos 307 comments

Favorite Quote:
A poet's work is to name the unnameable, to point at frauds, to take sides, start arguments, shape the world, and stop it going to sleep.

~Salman Rushdie

wow! i loved reading this. good job


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