I am not one to place blame but I do think my siblings really didn't have a chance at a life without turmoil. You read about breaking the cycle of abuse and in many ways though not impossible it is quite difficult. It has a lot to do with survival skills and how to handle the down side of life. When you are not taught how to handle stress , you find yourself falling into patterns of familiarity.
I myself have never been a winter person . It is the dark with gray skies, the down time and to much to time to think that triggers the negativity that weighs the soul down.
I find myself saying goodbye over and over in my mind. By the time I put one death to rest I find myself dealing with another. I have always looked at my brother and sisters through the eyes of a ten year old. The age where you have one foot in childhood and one in adulthood and where hope still stands a chance.
How many tears must fall
to erase the pain and ache?
Where memories flourish
and sorrow deep remains.
Can't rewrite history,
nor alter the script called life,
moving forward with the day
in hopes of making it right.
I wiped the tear of sorrow.
moved it from my cheek
and in my heart it still remains
in the time that looks so bleak.
This blog was created for the silent cries that have gone unanswered. Children our most precious gift and undeniably our future. When does discipline become abuse? When does the dagger of words pierce the heart? How many children are left to care for themselves? When the boxcar scenario hits close to home.
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