Tuesday, September 14, 2010


(This was written for a girl whose father poured acid over her face and body when she was 10 months old)

No matter how beautiful
is that Gumamela you're attaching
lovingly on my ears, sister
I will never be like you.

Look at me from head to foot
I am wrapped with the hatred
every ugly thing that could latch onto
the very nerves of our father

Somehow he has still a little love left
to keep me alive and live
like a monster,
Obviously not like you...

Sometimes when I gaze in the mirror
the thought of living normally
carries my hopes away
to the unknown depths of solitude

I try to see what is not there
something that is not what the reflection reveals
and the smile that seems so distant

Under the lashes of my eyes
is a picture of my heart's desire
A father that tells her daughter
"you shouldn't be sad because i love you".

Hold my hand sister and feel
my pulse racing with my heartbeat
Mind swamped with cold treatment

Hold tight sister and let down the fog
The bitterness and shame Dad had bestowed me
after he poured the acid on my face and body
when i was ten months old.

Feel me sister,
let our pulses blend, like real gold
Although I am not like you...

The sea of perception yawns like hell
Every time it sees me...
Me and my ogre-like self...

Because i am not like you
and i will never be.

Friday, September 10, 2010


(This was based on a true story told by an abused girl named Steph)


As i've watched the little flowers bloom
Thine be the gladness and mine be the doom
In solitude,the memories revived
The diabolical and grievous hell i had survived.

It all started when i was five
All the heavenly things and the earth were alive
Not until my mother pass away
Then an infinite feeling of inferno stirred me.

The misery and degredation entwined
Hobble all things with monstrousness behind
As the atrocious whispers float in the hill
My brother stand next to me,naked and still.

Father commanded him to stroke his snake
And if i refuse he smack my bottom and raped me himself
All the crystal and marble ive treasured suddenly break
Worst was my brother enjoyed to repeat it on quick.

I battled as ive crossed the thread of suffering
I had drowned my fears to the light approaching
CHILDLINE came and rolled the black clouds
My father was jailed but my travail ever growls loud.
(This poem was written after i read STEPH'S story.How horrible she had gone through in the hands of his father and brother,she courageously speak out in the Child Abuse Effects.)