Adjusting to life's changes with hope… through poetry, haiku, and commentary

Looking Back


Those men abused me,
and my father abused me,
but I loved him.

My parents have been
dead a longtime; my
feelings are numb about
them.

But, once in a while,
something makes me
think of them.

I still love them,
I still miss them,
I still hate them.
And forgive them.

He knew. Mom knew.
Who else knew?
I didn’t.

They didn’t help me.
They didn’t speak up.
They didn’t protect me.

I am now much older, and
when I look in the mirror
I can see bits and pieces
of the good and the bad
parts of them living in me
going forward.

So, looking back doesn’t
hurt as much anymore.
But I can see self-pity
and regret looking back.

These days, I spend
more time looking forward,
less time looking back.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Basic HTML is allowed. Your email address will not be published.

Subscribe to this comment feed via RSS

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: