Such is the power of a life unlived, a dream that remains forever out of reach.
A childhood that I’ll never have.
In the days of yore, I lived a life so pure,
With a childhood that was gentle, kind, and demure.
My parents were my guiding star, my light,
And with their love, my life was filled with delight.
In a meadow bright and fair, we’d spend our days,
With blooms that cast a fragrant haze.
We chased after fluttering butterflies,
And played beneath the azure skies.
At eventide, we’d return to our abode,
With crackling fire, warming our abode.
My mother’s dulcet voice would fill the night,
As my father told stories of valiant knights.
At dawn, I’d wake to their gentle touch,
Feeling loved and cherished, never as such.
A breakfast feast would be prepared,
A meal divine, that nothing could be compared.
My childhood memories would be a trove of precious gold,
A store of love, mirth, and moments to behold.
I imagine a blissful life, one without care or strife,
And to my parents, I would pledge an endless fife.
In this life, my eyes beheld no choice,
Entrapped in a world where silence was my only voice.
They sought a son, not a daughter to cherish,
And so they filled my soul with self-hate to perish.
Molded in their twisted image, I was,
With anger and hatred their chosen cause.
My childhood was naught but a web of pain,
A darkness that clung to me, like endless rain.
Trapped in their expectations and fears,
Drowning in their cruel words and endless tears.
My innocence was lost, and all I felt was fear,
Their foul language and actions, are ever near.
Waited I did, and prayed for a chance to flee,
Yearning for a life where I could be free.
Yet that day never came, and none didst rescue,
And as I write this, my heart still breaks in two.
My childhood was no mere nightmare, but a living hell,
A place where hope and love could never dwell.
The past will ever haunt me, a shadow that never leaves,
A burden I must bear, like a ship lost in the sea’s endless heaves.
©Emika Oka
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