Disgust Me

27 Aug

It was a Sunday afternoon,

when I saw the child beaten

Five years old

and I saw it.

They were outside,

throwing small rocks at the street

and one of them

mistakenly,

threw a rock at a moving car.

A small sleek car, too perfect for the neighborhood.

The rock hit the windshield,

I heard the crack, heard the car screech at a stop

my heart stopped, I let go of the Barbie,

my parents were upstairs I was in the front yard

I should have ran up…but shock kept me seated on the warm grass

A tall man slammed his door shut,

got out so quickly

the huddle of children were dispersing,

he grabbed one of the children by the neck

like a small puppy

the child in his little red t-shit struggled in the air

screamed, I let out a little yelp in response

but was too far, the man didn’t even notice me.

He threw the kid to the ground.

” You fucking shithead” I didn’t know what those words meant

but I remember the ferocity in which the man spoke them.

I ran towards the gates which encompassed the property,

I grabbed the wired holes with my little hands,

as he kicked the child, only seven maybe,

I cried out, “NO NO NO”

The man continued to hit him

screaming at the kid,

Where were the parents, why were kids only out here, why!

A bigger child, a plum little guy, with curly auburn hair and tan skin

ran out with a bat, he reached the man’s knees

and hit him,

the man grabbed the bat threw it to the ground.

I was running out now,

I don’t know what got a hold of me

I grabbed my grandfathers cane

both the kids were on the ground screaming

this all happened in a matter of minutes yet it felt like hours.

A little girl running with a cane,

I came at the man

and I yelled not in english,

He turned at me, I remember the barbarity of his eyes

those eyes were blue, and in another circumstance I would have called them

calm like a sea breeze

But they were full of anger,

he had the bat up,

he looked at me and stopped

a little girl in a pink dress,

with a cane,

astonishment crinkled on his face,

the bat dropped from his hands

clattered on the cement.

He stared at me,

I just looked up

” Shesto?” why? I asked

” I..” was all I remember

and then my mother ran out

screaming at the man,

other parents were coming out now

The man was still staring at me,

the cane still in my hand as my mother held on to me.

He ran back to his car, and sped off.

The police were called,

the kids went to the hospital,

I don’t know if that man was ever caught.

That night my mother held me,

crying,

thanking god her child hadn’t been hurt,

I remember telling her mama, mama its okay

I remember her singing in an ancient language, rocking me to sleep,

the children’s faces,

the man’s muscled arm, his leg ready for a swift kick.

Was it because I was a girl?

Is that why he stopped?

Years went by, we moved to a bigger house

my parents earned a great living

in a suburban town

with good to do people

where such things don’t happen, in the open.

But every once in a while,

I’ll see those eyes on another man or woman,

not the color, that doesn’t matter, the hate,

on a good to do person,

and that’s when I realize,

some people have a monster inside them

much worse than mine.

And they can hide it with facial expressions

and rich clothing

and a career to back it up,

but I know, that all these things

these accessories that we hide ourselves in, to pretend we aren’t human

can’t hide the fact that we are human.

Nearly twenty years have gone by,

and it’s crystal clear,

hardened in me,

forever I will hold the lesson,

and I hope you do to

that some people can quickly…

turn into monsters, and so can we

so can I, any of us can

that’s why we have to remember that there is such a thing

as right and wrong.

I’m still a little girl,

that brown cane in my hand,

that outrage in me.

How dare anyone do this,

I didn’t know the kids,

don’t know them now,

but violence is violence

and I wish everyday

that our world could forget it.

The struggle of revulsion,

The pain of that reality,

I’ll never understand.

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9 Responses to “Disgust Me”

  1. Writerlious August 27, 2012 at 3:14 pm #

    Such a touching poem about human nature and violence.

    • cookie200007 August 27, 2012 at 3:27 pm #

      Thankyou so much for reading, this was hard to put into words, thankyou

  2. skincarefanatic August 28, 2012 at 12:15 am #

    I read this and all I could think about is ‘Wow’ it’s truly sad that people like this exist.

    • cookie200007 August 28, 2012 at 5:00 am #

      It still shocks me, things like that–well they never feel real when you look back.

  3. Marylin Warner August 29, 2012 at 10:20 pm #

    Vivid and insightful, with tinges of sadness.
    Well done.

  4. carolynpageabc August 29, 2012 at 11:24 pm #

    Wonderful and true… We must always strive to perfect that monster within…. Not anyone else’s; just ours…!
    Lovely reading… 🙂

    • cookie200007 August 30, 2012 at 1:28 pm #

      Many thanks darling!!:) Excatally what I am talking about, in the end it is ourselves we must look at, to see are we who we want to be?

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