Who’s directing your steps?

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Image Credit: Pexels.com

It’s a constant struggle at times to keep my bearings
He tries to control me because he gave me this ring
and these diamond earrings
I can hardly remember what I was like before we met

Some say full of life before I became his wife
I look in the mirror and all I see is my silhouette
How much did I allow myself to forget?

Always flexing and changing, never doing my own thing
In an effort to please him, I hide how much I’m hurting
Maybe it’s me, always trying to be ‘me’
I never thought our ‘unity’ meant losing my identity
His fight for control is unhealthy I’m told

He is my husband should I not do what I’m told
He says,” I am the potter and you are the clay
I am going to mold you and you’ll thank me one day.”

I hide to talk to my friends and family
For if he knew, he would be most unhappy
I feel so alone in this prison I call home
So I pray and I pray that God will show me the way
The blind leading the blind no more, no way.

God wants me to be happy and he wants me to know his love
This abuse will not continue!” declared my Lord above
My home-made prison is now a home filled with love
My controlling husband is now a peaceful dove

Thank you Heavenly Father
For answering my prayer from up above.

By: Cherylene Nicholas

This is not my reality.  However, there are women out there in situations similar and some even worse.  I was inspired to write this for them.  Abusive relationships of any type are unacceptable.   Pray and talk to God about your challenges and ask for guidance.

 

Hidden Realities

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Credit: Pixabay.com

” She is so beautiful!,” they often whisper

Just under their breath because she’ll surely fret

Little do they know what lies beneath her beauty

Are tales of mistreatment and untold cruelty

She does not believe the kind words of others

Especially about such superficial  matters

She dismisses the matter as simple child-like chatter

Because she knows words do not really matter

As she heads home in despair

Thinking no one knows, no one cares

The voices in her head, wishing she were dead

But instead with haste she rushes home, “I can’t be late, I can’t be late”

She missed the bus, oh what a fate!

And now almost to tears she faces her fears,

As she cautiously enters the room she utters, “Honey, I’m home!”

Greeted with silence by what was once her loving partner

She braces herself for what might come after

He gestures to hit her but laughs at her manner

Hitting and belittling his wife was a laughing matter

With his words and fists, he would keep her in check

For NO wife of his would show disrespect

She is allowed to explain

As he twisted her arm inflicting pain

“This is my last chance”, she thought

Her chance to be free, free from this violence and misery

So she kisses him good night and goes to bed without a fight

For soon, she will take flight, in the middle of the night.

By: Cherylene Nicholas

Moral: Do not judge people by how they look or even by the words that come out of their mouth. You have no idea what’s really going on in their lives or in their minds.  Be grateful for the life you have.  

I felt inspired to write this poem let me know what you think.