I know you’re angry, I am too,
I saw the way they treated you,
An insult here, a dismiss there,
When all you want is loving care.
It’s not your fault, it never was,
They blame you out of spite because,
They cannot see beyond their needs,
And so your little heart just bleeds.
I know you’re bitter with your life,
Born into all this hate and strife,
Never held nor shown true love,
But darkness fitted like a glove.
And so you rage inside your head,
Your soul filled up with fear and dread,
You line your teddies one by one,
And yell at them, like things are done.
But in your broken heart you know,
These feelings are not meant to show,
And so you hold your teddies tight,
And cry yourself to sleep at night.
And when you wake you hope to see,
Some kindness that will set you free,
But arguments are all you hear,
And sibling slaps from ear to ear.
Of course the anger feels obtuse,
You really don’t deserve abuse,
But still it haunts you day by day,
They say it’s your fault anyway.
I know you’re angry, I am too,
I hate the way they treated you,
I wish I could rewrite your page,
And be the love to soothe your rage.
© The Complicated Bunny – 16 Sep 2021
This poem is the third in a series of prose which are conversations with my inner child parts. This is a homework assignment from J.B. my clinical psychologist. It is hoped by engaging with these individual child parts it will validate their existence and help bring me closer to understanding my own trauma and pain and thus move closer to healing from it.
The Complicated Bunny 