Abby

It's been sixty years Since I was a little girl When my story began Horrors and glory unfurled. I spent my days outside So I could be alone Hiding in the woods Dreading when he would come home. It's dark and late at night. He bursts into my room. I hide helpless under quilts Not knowing what to do. I know why he's come here. I have nowhere to hide. I hate what he will do to me. I want to die inside. "Don't you tell your mother!" He threatens as I cry. He grabs my soft arm, tears me out. Please just let me die. It's been fifty years Since my mother left my dad. She did it to protect me. If only she could have. It's been thirty years Since my first husband died. "Til death part us" I promised at 16. For twenty years he tried. It's been twenty seven years Since my son was born. We struggled together To survive his father's scorn. It's been sixteen years, Since I married again. My second husband started to drink, But I promised I'd never leave him. It's been twelve years, twelve long years now Since I attempted suicide. If you'd been raped and beaten and kicked, Maybe you would've tried. It's been ten years, ten blessed years, A kind doctor gave me medicine Invited me to church Where healing could begin. It's been ten years from now Since I have met the Lord. He truly can heal any wound. I am not afraid anymore. I don't fear men. I don't fear pain. I don't fear assault or scorn. If my father came to kill me now, Then I'd be heaven born. It's been five years since my best friend Went through a hard divorce. I was there to help her Choose a higher course. I told her "It's not your fault. You couldn't stop his cheating. The Lord loves you. You're still worth loving. Don't ever stop believing." A year ago a young girl cried. She whispered she'd been abused. I listened and cried and hugged her And helped her to be rescued. For ten years, ten long, good years, I helped innocent boys and girls. I helped my friends and family, And I have served the Lord. It's been ten years since I confessed What my father and husband had done. It wasn't my fault. I was innocent. But I didn't know. 1 in 4 children are abused But most of them won't say. They feel scared, dirty, guilty, confused They want to run away. Thousands of traumatized teens Will think of suicide As the only place they can run from the horror The only place to hide. But that's not true. They're not alone. That's what they need to know. Survivors like you and me are here. Hope and healing we can show. It's been twelve years now Since I wanted to die. I know now that God saved me So I could help others heal and thrive. So I could show forgiveness To my father as he died. So I could show my son What it means to be alive. So I could reach for others And help them to survive. I am living, loving proof That Jesus Christ is alive!

This poem is about: 
My community

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SarahthePoet

This is a tribute to a friend of mine; it's my take on her life story told from her point of view. She is such a giving person with such an awesome testimony. She is full of love and forgiveness. She will talk about God with anyone. She isn't afraid of anything. She loves her kids and grandkids, biological and adopted. If you ever met her, you'd understand why this poem was necessary. The love of Christ has made her a truly exceptional person. I love her. She is awesome.

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