Poem – Ode to my Counsellor

Standard

She says ‘you’re picking the scabs
You’re letting him win’
‘Time has moved on
Put it all in the past
Get on with your life
Draw a line in the sand’
I answer that I know
What I’m doing is wrong
But I can’t help my brain
Saying the pain hasn’t gone
I didn’t get justice
He walks the land free
The lack of a sentence
Is cold steel in me
‘So what should you do
To heal yourself now’
I said I don’t know, I wish he was dead
Struck down by a car
With a hole in his head
And yes I know that makes me bad
To hope that this ‘man’
Is cut short in his prime
But he’ll never suffer
Like he made me did
The fear and the sadness
Covered firm with a lid
You know there’s a scream
A roar in my mind
That met me with silence
She couldn’t reply.

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