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Ireland - sexual abuse
The Story of me and Many More, A Child after the before
by Ray Jaker
Article published on the 2009-12-04 Latest update 2009-12-04 13:15 TU
Ireland's Minister for Justice Dermot Ahern pauses as he addresses the media after the publication of a report into child abuse in Roman Catholic institutions in the Archdiocese of Dublin during 1975 to 2004
(Photo: Reuters)
A victim of sexual abuse in an Irish institution has sent a poem about his experiences to RFI.
I dedicate to every abused adult (where-ever) whose childhood was stolen & to pray there is never another child who becomes another token of this horrible crime.
“The Story of me and Many More, A Child after the before”
I am the sky- whose cloak will not blue
I am the sea- whose tide will not turn
I am the moon- whose silver will not hue
I am the sun- whose orange will not burn
I am the day- whose light will not bright
I am the night- whose darkness will not light
I am the tree- whose root is dead
I am the flower- without a head
I am the fish- whose fins will not breathe
I am the bird- who will not eat seed
I am the scab- that just will not heal
I am the neural- that just cannot feel
I am a s mile - that remains frozen
I am a choice- that was never chosen
I am a year — without a season
I am a reason - without a reason
I am a whisper - that cannot vibrate
I am a scream - that cannot migrate
I am a prison - whose cell will not open
I am the cell - where space is so choking
I am a house - that has no foundation
I am a country - without a nation
I am the hell - that is in my centre
I am the heaven — that has no banter
I am Christmas - without its infant
I am a gift box - without its present
I am the present — that is now past
I am the past - that is now present
I am a heart - without a soul
I am the secret - never told
I was lost - and still not found
I was frightened - no solace around
I am a curse - no man can swear
I am the abused - no one was there
I done no crime -1 served a dictum
I done no wrong — I am a victim
I was the w rong - that was never right
I was defenceless -1 could not fight
I was that child - who was un-nurtured
I am the man- that still is tortured
(To the Lucky ones who escaped this ordeal)
I am a child abused- a man confused
Just one of many- that were used
To you all - who escaped this ordeal?
If you were I -that is how it would feel?
To be a CHILD ABUSED
I was a Child once like many more
Then someone came and closed that Door
Since then I just gave up hoping
That it would ever again open
You SEE I am a CHILD ABUSED.
With a Title I didn’t choose
And when I became that abused child
That was the last day of my “Life”…!!!
Oh yes, to others it seemed like I had life
But inside, I was never really ever, “Alive”!
Footprint
I somehow still believe there is a God
But ask over & over "Where the Hell he was"?
When I was a child bei ng "Abused"!
Like so many others being "Abused"!
