Survivors Poetry

Mum

I wish I had a mum who would love me
as much as i would love a mum.

Kindred Spirit

Everything in life has a purpose
Lessons, darkness, even a special friend.
But many of my lessons
could turn me bitter to the end.

So it’s rare to find a Kindred Spirit,
Who knows what I've been through.
A tortured child, a woman used,
my Kindred Spirit has been that too.

Finally someone who understands
how life can be so unkind.
How a loveless childhood
stains the adult mind.

Some describe as torture
memories that'll never go away.
I suppose satisfaction could be gained
if I could see the b******* pay!

But... Would it make me a better person?
Would I truly want it done?
To slowly watch them shrivel
could I endure their kind of fun?
No.......
Although it’s made me cautious
it’s really made me see.
That hurting another human being
Is not the person I want to be.

Everything in life has a purpose.
The hurt, the love, the pain.
Even though sometimes you’re left to wonder
what lesson you had to gain.

So it’s something of a miracle
mind, heart and life are on the mend.
And somehow life gives a little extra
A Kindred Spirit, a friend.

Trash n Treasure

It seems people easily discard things
they don’t want any more
old, chipped, out of shape or broken
its our societies new law.

Its sad today in amongst the rubbish of life
people toss aside their most precious things
a child, a husband, a wife.

A simple statue or a trinket brought all shiny and new
a lost or broken heart
seems you can replace them too.

Well I'm not like that, I'm a sentimental old fashioned thing
I love the familiarity
that treasured things bring.

I love old buildings, where bricks were made by hand
and that clean country smell
from living off the land.

I love simple manners, where please and thank you
are common place
I love Christmas dinners
where some families still say grace.

But people want to replace what they had before
and old and pre-loved things are tossed aside
and gone forever more.

And today people are discarded, even me and you
and life becomes a trash n treasure
but for me that treasure is you.

Poems by Debrah Ryan (Australia)