14 March 2011


I want to explain a little about the inspiration for this poem. First of all, this isn't about my daddy. He never did any such thing to me or anyone else. Although I have been assaulted as an adult, my childhood was free of this sort of abuse.

Over the course of my life, I have been involved with various families that have struggled through the emotional upheaval of abuse of this nature. It has happened to people in my extended family and in the families of friends. It crosses all social, economic, and racial lines. It is a crime that must be stopped.

This is my heart speaking for those that could not.


In the dark I sit alone in my room.
Not alone in body, there are people all around.
But alone in a way that only a broken spirit knows.
I am crying the tears of years of abuse.
I see the shadow in the doorway.
Not a face, only the outline of the evil one.
Who could it be? I am frightened.
Should I cry out? Would anyone hear?
Outside the thunder rumbles overhead.
The shadow moves closer.
Still no face do I see on this intruder.
The footsteps grow louder.
What does he want from me?
I am not a woman yet, I am only a child.
Why does he do these things to me?
I am alone again and violated.
The wind blows, the curtain moves,
The lightening strikes, and I see his face.
I cry out and no one comes to me.
Why does no one hear my cries?
I hide under my covers, so dirty and shamed.
I cannot tell a soul what is happening to me.
They would not believe me anyway.
And mom said never do anything to get you in trouble.
So, like Daddy's good little girl, I am quiet.
And outside, the thunder rumbles,
And the lightening strikes, and I am alone.

Written by Suzanne G. McClendon
© 5 May 1997


  1. Thank you so much for visiting, Monika, and for your kind comment. I hope that you have a wonderful day.

    Your sis in Christ,

  2. well done, and thank you for advocating from your heart with this poem!!!

  3. Thank you, Jenna, and you're welcome. It is one of the most heartbreaking crimes against the body and the spirit there is.

  4. @Mel~ @ Lifestwistedstitches.com

    Thank you, Mel, for following and for the comment. I'm sorry that this poem brought tears. I was full of them as I wrote it, too. :(


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