A Child That's Filled With Naught But Light Poem by James McLain

Her soul has been shaken long before she knew she had a soul.
and if by those familiar finger's,
of a stranger's hand that clawed to deep within her hole.

It was now that I realized that her inner being,
would not be able to survive more atrocious act's by they or them.
She stank of fear, fear that's raw, like the stink inside a cell
that's dark and filled with false harsh light.

The horrors that they made, to make their job's, of watching
human-made, these men of hate, their job's create.
If I could I would, I'd sink right through the crack of dawn
back into night of useless hope.

From early childhood memories came the trauma and from their
hidden secrets came more floods, of just the same.
The earlier I went back in life, the deeper that I fell.

Inside each child a broken soul, that has to fend for by itself.
Shaken, cracked and without help, stomped on left by them unstable.
The resulting symptomatology,
can be varied but most likely includes, U.S... I.
Layered like an onion is trauma stacked on top of abuse
and more their trauma.

Therapy as an act of kindness cannot talk of course.
My experience is that she needs to hide it permanently,
sometimes these lost souls simply do not unfold,
not unlike flower buds which, due to environmental conditions,
do not blossom they just shrivel even more.

Traumatic paths are lost and to empathize one feels.
A shaken soul can tell her story and experience the power of finally having a witness to hear her tell her story,
one with the sound that crystal makes, that is her soul.

A calm soul with healing power, is what she needs to be around.
Shaken from the depths and like the flower that needs light.
A flower made from night that always opens to the sun.