Child Abuse Prevention Month

Victims of abuse can express in writing and art what they may not be able to express through talking. Think about the background image, and read the poem below. Resources for combating child abuse, neglect, and exploitation follow the poem.

Hell's Doorbell

If blankets shelter her weeps,
did sleeping carry her dreams?
tear drops in the winter,
were icicles between the sheets.

Hell's doorbell rang,
where fury welcomed her in,
vibrant flames and cries,
seeping from an angel's crypt.

Shallow screams within the heat,
drowned through the comfort of tears,
soothing water scorned at the cheeks,
fighting the echoes in her ears.

Plea's being forbidden,
red eye's begging to free,
crawling through the hallways of pain,
before the heat caught up with she.

Fetal positions captured,
sobbing of her soul sang,
another moment spared,
every time the doorbell rang.

Greetings from the master,
his touch took her soul,
running she could never hide,
her scent he'd always know.

The feel of his breath,
the vocals of his vicious words,
a plague of deceit,
her screams were never heard.

His hands held her tongue,
his eyes held her hope,
the hollowness of her body,
in his spell she was alone.

Sleeping carried no dreams,
nightmares pounded her hearts core,
in a cold, dead winter,
Hell's doorbell rang no more.

Arline Solorio