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Array
(
[sid] => 132861
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Perversion of Innocence
[time] => 2007-03-19 11:47:44
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => The tired woman looked down upon the bundle in her numb and aching arms. The small child looks up into the eyes of her mother, tears of pain threatening to spill from her sky blue eyes. Her mother cannot remember the last time her daughter had something to quiet the growl of her empty stomach. She tried to ask people who lived in the city for spare change, but it seemed as if no one cared enough to even acknowledge her existence. She tried to tell them about her daughter; about how she was so deathly ill because she had not eaten in so long. Yet it did no good, as she suspected, no one wanted to help a homeless woman take care of her child, they had no need for her in this world. The helpless whimper that escaped her daughter’s parched throat brought her back to reality. She rocked the frail child back and forth in her arms, trying to quell the pain that the child was suffering. Of course it did little to ease that horrible pain; the child began to cry, hot tears running down her cheeks left tracks in the grime on her face. Now the woman began to cry along with her pitiful daughter, the sobs racking her body like physical blows, she moaned in anguish and despair. People walked along thee sidewalk, still paying no heed to the drama that was about to unfold. As the little girl started to wail louder, her mother found that she could take no more. No more crawling around the dumpsters, looking for what little scraps the rats didn’t carry off first; no more begging people for help, only to be spit on and cursed at; but most of all, no more pain. The women hugged her child close to her and whispered in her ear that soon all of the pain would be gone. The child looked deep into her mother’s eyes and nodded in acknowledgement. The women stood and started toward the door of the tall apartment complex she was living beside, in the dark, urine smelling alleyway. She opened the stairway door and began her final ascension toward peace. As she climbed the steps, people walked down the stairs in the opposite direction, still they took no notice of her and the small whimpering child clutched in her arms. Finally she stood at the top of the staircase and stood before the door that led to the roof; she opened the door and walked back out into the harsh light of the sun. As she walked toward the edge, she started to mutter a prayer. When she reached the edge of the roof she did not look down to the street eight stories below. She hugged her daughter close to her for the last time and stepped forward, plunging to the pavement below, only thinking that the pain was over. [comments] => 3 [counter] => 203 [topic] => 13 [informant] => trackiller2006 [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 3 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => DarkPoetry )
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