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A Beautiful Soul


There she lies in the depths of despair. She's been loved as well as lost, beaten as well as believed, cowardly at times courage filled. She knows not what she's been brought to this earth for. She was born to abusive parents and laid down on her death bed night after night. She's terrified of everything around her but one silly boy from school. He was her best friend, as well as a loved one. He knew everything, but they never shared with anyone else. It was to be taken to their grave for they knew of the consequences which were far too advanced to break the rules now. One day she came home with a smile t hat stretched from ear to ear. She dropped that smile when her parents grabbed her from behind and pulled her down the stairs. They saw that one precious smile and were not pleased by the joy of their slave. They pinned her to the floor and demanded for the reason of that smile. She refused to tell of her dear sweet friend due to the fear of any harm it may bring him. They beat it out of her. She caved in. They let her free and out the door they headed. She curled up in a ball and held her face. It hurt to cry but she had no choice. Her friend was in danger and she was at fault. She blamed on herself everything that went wrong. She ran upstairs to her room and prayed for hours. She fell fast asleep. The next day she went to school and ended up with a broken heart at the sight of her bruised and swollen friend. She walked up and told him of her sincere apology. He had already forgiven her a long time ago. He refused to let her parents intervene what they had. It was not her fault, not even in the slightest. Both wonderful and beautiful souls were bruised and beaten from head to foot. Even then, they never grew distant. This is the tale of two beautiful souls.
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Comments (3)

Poetry my power-2015
<p>That is really powerful.</p>
b_campbell
nobody is perfect, that's why understanding is so important - unknown
b_campbell
Sometimes imagery of things that have never happened to me come to me in thoughts of what it might be like to experience some of the things I write. I write poetry because it's my escape from my life and into other peoples' lives.

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