I’m Sorry- I Don’t Understand (prt 5)

I’m Sorry- I Don’t Understand (prt 5)
THIS PARTICULAR STORY CONTAINS CONTENT THAT SOME MIGHT FIND TROUBLING

Chapter 1Chapter 2Chapter 3Chapter 4

 

Chapter 5 : She Was Right

Father looked after my back in the morning. He told me that I was strong and that I would be better quickly and that he knew that I will be a good girl. I knew it too.

What I did was wrong, because what Margret did was wrong. So, I tried to show her that it was wrong, but even that was wrong. Teaching is only for mothers and fathers. Not little girls like me. I need to learn more than just the books and toys that Father teaches me, I need to learn respect and control. That’s what makes a good person. Otherwise we are all bad, all selfish, all rude.

After Father as done wiping my back with wet cotton, he put on some cold bandage, and then told me to get ready for lunch. I had gotten up late today, but he said it was okay, because I was tired, and that there was something I had to see for myself at the dining table, something I needed to do. Continue reading “I’m Sorry- I Don’t Understand (prt 5)”

I’m Sorry- I Don’t Understand (prt 4)

I’m Sorry- I Don’t Understand (prt 4)
This Particular Series Contains Content That Some Could Find Troubling
Chapter 1 : The Perfect Family
Chapter 2 : It’s Not Right
Chapter 3 : No, You’re Wrong

Chapter 4 : Where The Bad Goes

 

I was pinching my fingernails, I was scared. It didn’t take long for the mothers to hear Margret’s crying, and they rushed into a room with her holding her head and sobbing, while the three of us looked on. Elena was trying to hide behind me from Mother, who looked composed, but we knew what was to follow.

“What happened dear?” Margret’s mother asked.
“I fell.”
“What? Oh dear, what nonsense!”
This was going to get all of us in trouble if I didn’t speak up. So, I took a step forward, shook Elena off my arm and announced to the mothers, “I pushed her, and I’m sorry.” Continue reading “I’m Sorry- I Don’t Understand (prt 4)”

I’m Sorry – I Don’t Understand (Prt3)

I’m Sorry – I Don’t Understand (Prt3)
This Particular Story Series Has Content That Some Might Find Troubling

Chapter 1 : The Perfect Family

Chapter 2 : It’s Not Right

Chapter 3 : No, You’re Wrong

Chapter 3:

“Hungry and sick…. It’s not right.” Margret sobbed out.

Chelsea, Elena, and I were shocked by how disrespectful she was being. We just ate sandwiches and played with a laser pointer that our parents gave us, and here is Margret trying to act rude because Andy is feeling sick.

“It hurts him, he says, when he’s like this. But they don’t help him.” Continue reading “I’m Sorry – I Don’t Understand (Prt3)”

I’m Sorry- I Don’t Understand (prt 2)

I’m Sorry- I Don’t Understand (prt 2)
THIS PARTICULAR STORY SERIES HAS CONTENT THAT SOME MIGHT FIND TROUBLING

Chapter 1: The Perfect Family

Chapter 2: It’s Not Right

He taught me about the stars and how the waves move in the ocean, he taught me about flavor and how sound moves through the air, he taught me about the life of a bee and that of a frog and told me the rules of decency, politeness, and safety.

“What do you do if you see a hurt bird outside?”
“I bring it in so that we can make it better.” “Correct.”
“ What do you do if someone calls home or comes to visit?”
“I fetch you or Mother to help them.” “Very good.”
“What do you do if someone asks you something you don’t understand?”
“I say: I’m sorry, but I don’t understand.” Continue reading “I’m Sorry- I Don’t Understand (prt 2)”

I’M SORRY- I DON’T UNDERSTAND (pt 1)

I’M SORRY- I DON’T UNDERSTAND (pt 1)
This Particular Story Series May Include Content That Some Might Find Troubling

CHAPTER 1 : THE PERFECT FAMILY

I had managed to hurt myself last night in the room, a few cuts going across my wrist halfway down my arm, some deep, some not, some hurt, some didn’t, some burnt, some didn’t, some grew hard and stiff on the inside and the others were still a bit gooey. Father was very understanding and nice. He consoled me and told me that I going to be all right and even attended to my wounds, using his cream on them and wrapping them around in bandage cloth. He told me that my arm would be as good as new by the end of the week, which made me very happy, because this one was starting to hurt me. Father told me that I shouldn’t worry about the way I hurt myself and to forget about it. He told me it’s not right for good little nine-year-old girls to think about such stuff. Never bad, always good. Mother always taught me that. Continue reading “I’M SORRY- I DON’T UNDERSTAND (pt 1)”

THE MORE I THINK

THE MORE I THINK

The more I think
The more you dream
The more these ambitions
Seem less to be

Relentless they accused
Relentless we denied
The truth of the matter
Lay buried behind

Sinless he steals
And sinless she swindles
As the weight of sin
Does slowly dwindle

Adoption of anguish
Adoption of deceit
The structures of justice
Fall victims to conceit

Hollow they prayed
And hollow they forgave
To the unhindered kings
And shallowest of knaves

In the most muted of nights
In the most muted of hearts
These saints of misdeeds
Do vice impart

Waging war on the body of mind
Waging war on the foundation of ideals
We cheer not these barbaric acts
Our arms drop dead and heads kneel

My Heart and Soul in hope, unite
My Heart and Soul in doubt, segment
Two polar intuitions, in a vessel, bound
Only one, of which, was ever present

ITS BEEN A YEAR FOR ME AT THIS. AN INFORMATIVE, SLOW AND LONG YEAR. THANKS FOR BEING A PART OF IT.
(picture credit to owner)

A Candle’s Worth

A Candle’s Worth

A Candle’s Worth

A King lay sleeping in his kingdom fair
He awakens late in his castle spire
And jumps off his mattress lush
Walking about in a silken attire

Peeking out the window, glancing around
He saw none of the majesty assumed
Contrary to the vision of gleaming sights
Lay a town beneath in dark consumed

If all houses can’t bear a candlelight,
Then what is the point of gold this much?
His depressed mind inquired his heart
For what is the worth of a kingdom such?

An old beggar awoke on the kingdom floor
His mouth ran dry from frosty nights
As a little boy threw him corn
Staring at him through a lantern’s light

Diminished clothes on the beggar’s back
Nothing worth a second look
Cold on the street, scurrying around
Less he was, the more he took

A little dull man in a glimmering town
His repute was none, his worth mere
He stood pounding his head in rock
For what is the worth of a beggar here?

A bright kingdom engulfed in dark
Where a candle’s warmth had contrasting worth
Perceptive desire brought about by a value
Inherited and ordained, decreed at birth