|
you, my parents, are soldiers in the army of fanatics
who want to exorcise the devil of contradiction out of the child
who want to beat down and silence
the enemy—different thinking and the truth
I cannot speak my truth
if I am sad, I hear—pull yourself together
when I express my love—stop that monkey love
I do well in school and I am proud—don’t be so full of yourself
I have an opinion—who do you think you are
“conform” is the command
at first my mother leads this fight
in my teenage years my father takes over the army command
and enforces his ideology
the victim who blocks the army’s path with truth
is attacked with blame—battled with fanatic cruelty
tortured with guilt and isolation
this army marches solidly behind their leader’s belief
only one true belief may exist for this army—that of parents
this belief unites the army
I see this army marching towards me, ready to attack
I step aside—I avoid them
fanatically these soldiers march on—straight ahead
following their belief
they are so busy believing that they don’t see me
they won’t miss me in their army—they don’t like non-believers
I wait until they have passed by—and behind them I discover life
© Barbara Rogers
back to table of contents
Screams from Childhood |
