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Inscriptions of Hope Publishing

Survivors With A Voice
Poems from Survivors
These are poems from survivors.
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Inscriptions of Hope
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Upon exhaling, I am recreated

I believe in the blessings of my sorrows--
in dreams, undiscovered.
I will hold, gently, to the hope of beauty--
tightly, to a loving notion.
Triumphed tragedies will set my wings--
fanned wide for a flight, undirected.

I shall be settled in the affirmation
that in trust, as with freedom,
security is no option.
That with explanation
there is no certainty of understanding.

It will be as it is--
one skyward journey
landing on the air of unseen tomorrows.
There will be, bound before my eyes,
a beauty in the ugliness
of silent disappointments.

I will, with cautious hands,
embrace the given knowing's
with a conscious ascertainment
that others may not see.
With probable assumption,
my thoughts will be my own--
revelations, unexpressed.

I will lie, with resignation,
in the bed of padlocked sufferings--
hushing, with awakened voice,
the stories underneath.

I will lose the expectations on my elders,
placed with childish visions of rightness,
and exchange with them the prayer
for opened minds and humbled hearts.

I will seek, no more
the grandiose sights
of outstretched arms;
but will, in empathetic fashion,
use, more actively,
my own.

And if an angel takes my hand,
might I, in all my foolishness,
find the strength
to let it go.

By Achildstruth

Musical Lobotomy

If I could purge
that part of my brain
which stores pain,

I would replace it
with a gentle refrain;
Bach, Beethoven

or simply rain...

By Susan Maree

Healing Is Hard

We sit at the table trying to write,
but can't take our eyes off the outside sight.
The birds are feeding with abandon and flair.
Flying and chirping without a care.
The seeds on the feeder, they eat with delight.
They twitter and chatter then rush to flight.
Why can't we be like those birds of a feather,
Finding joy in life, no matter the weather?
Flying with freedom all over the sky,
While I sit here and only can mutter.
The storms within me continue to brew.
And all I can think is "what can I do?"
I know the healing depends on remembering.
But the memories are harsh, am I really dealing?
So I sit in a dither, wishing I were a bird,
Then I know at least I would get heard.
My supporters are nice, they use both ears,
I just wish I weren't always in tears.
Healing is painful, but necessary I know,
But if I were a bird I'd be on the go.
So back to reality, the memories I dare
To remember each one with dutiful care.
I tell my insiders I love each one,
But god I"All be thankful when this is all done!

Kathie (for Kathy & Entourage) (AZ)

Coming Together

Let us break the barrier
Let us find the key
Let us open up the door
And see what we will see.
Let us walk through this door
Together, hand in hand
We must let all inside know
We intend to make a stand
Let us put behind us
All the world's faults and wrongs
And let us put to face us
A victory delayed so long.
Let us come together
And show what we can do.

The Informer (MA)

"Your Father is Here"

My heart has been broken for much too long.
Trying to hide the pain that's still so strong.
Wanting to hide,
Wanting to run,
Knowing this fight has just begun.
Remembering the hurt will bring me pain,
Yet knowing in Jesus I've everything to gain.
Shaking with fear at remembering the past,
but Knowing my victory in Christ will last.
Feeling tears of sorrow run down my face
recalling the shame and taking undesired blame.
Remembering the hands of fear that hold me down,
will no longer hold me when I lay these burdens down.
For Christ himself has borne my shame,
cried my tears and felt my pain.
So when fear of remembering makes me take flight,
To God's arms I will run on his shoulder,
I'll cry for I know I can trust Him and He'll keep me from harm.
As His child He will hold me and so softly He'll wipe my tears.
As He whisper have no fear,
For your father is here.

"Songbird" By Vickie L (Iowa)

Oh the bitterness
Oh the pain that you bring.
Oh the anguish that you leave behind.
Oh the sadness that grows day to day.
Oh bitterness why can't you die?
Why must I be so bitter.

May N. (FL)

Silent Voice

Listen, please do listen
Listen now with care.
Listen for the suffering
the depth of our despair.
Listen for the hope
that brings us to your door.
Listen to the silence
that tells you so much more.
Listen with your being
no ears are needed here.
Listen just with feeling
to make the meaning clear.
In silence we are speaking
so many unsaid things.
Listen with much caring

By Lynn (MA)

Innocence Lost

The life of a child
So meek and mild
Utterly Shattered
As she lay Beaten and Battered
Eyes normally filled with glee
Now clouded in Misery.
She dreams in the darkness of night
To flee - to take flight
Anything to avoid his continued spite.
She ask of the clouds above
What did I do to destroy his love?
He says it's because she was born Bad.
That's why he's always mad
She tries so hard to be good
Still her screams fill the neighborhood.
Maybe there will be one person that
wouldn't turn their head and say
"They can't get Involved."
Then they go to church to be absolved.

By Elizabeth V. (MA)

Why is the pain so much worse in the night?
When I haven't the strength to put up a fight?
The night and dark take over the sun.
Like memories take over the distance I've come.
At night time it seems like the hurt is still here.
I bury my head and I tremble with fear.
Despite all the healing I've felt with the light.
The memories and pain all return with the night.

By Poohbear

"The Journey"

I found you while on a journey
back through my past.
You were a child of six, lonely
abused and battered.
You sat imprisoned in my mind,
to afraid to tell your secrets,
to ashamed to show your feelings
of hate and loneliness.

I was afraid of you also, I was
afraid to let you be heard.
Your stories were filled with
sadness and shame.

We were both so afraid.
But we found each other, you & I.
The little girl who was so ashamed
to come out of hiding, is now
reaching out.
Breaking the silence that has
caused her such pain.

I am reaching back showing you that
you are loved by God and so any others.
To my child of six, you are learning to
walk for the first time.
it will be scary, but together, we are one.

To My Child of Six...I Love You...

By Debbie Gonzalez

A Mere Child of God

Loved ones come near; but I cannot hear
Their whirlwind of words surround me!
Where is my end;
where is their beginning:
I am totally spent and depleted!
In my most frustrating laughter,
my loneliest tears...
I cry out,
"What 'is really happening here?"
When I lose sight of who I am,
I recite whose I am...
A mere child of God.

By Tdw (CA)


I look for a ray of hope,
with despair all around.
once again hope eludes me.
I fall once again,
wishing life to end.
The light goes out.
I am asleep.

By Sue. H (OH)

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