Education Poem by Peter Boyle


Rating: 3.5

Seven years old,
on loan to an uncle
and a bundle of cash went missing.
For three days locked in a room, beaten.
The golden orbs of pennies roasted in an oven
removed by tongs
glisten on a child’s skin
as she screams and screams.
These round white scars
that remain even today
without pigment
without the shadow of colour
with only the ash’s afterglow.

After telling that story
you burnt your hand on the iron,
burnt it yourself,
your punishment for breaking silence.

You rushed to the balcony but they pulled you back inside.
You wanted to spit, to scream insults at the soldiers
to stop them beating up the old man in the street.
“Listen,” she said as she held you back, your mother.
“Listen, you have to learn to say nothing.”
Learn to be nobody.
Learn to be the white wall
that has no face and no tongue.


The poem even in its wilderness seems to be nice and the situtations perfectly against the rights of the child which follows it in the life and creating a peculiar personality without compromising the sufferings.

1 2 Reply
Paul Sebastian 11 May 2014

Struggles and the reality of pain growing teach us life. A kind you do not from school. Great write!

0 2 Reply
Rajnish Manga 11 June 2015

The pain and the ordeal of a seven year old comes alive before the eyes of the reader in its shocking starkness. Very powerful portrayal.

0 0 Reply
Kim Barney 11 June 2015

Vivid and haunting. Sounds like true experience, but hopefully was just your great imagination. Well written.

2 0 Reply
Edward Kofi Louis 11 June 2015

Learning the hard way! With the muse of life. Thanks fo sharing this pem with us.

0 0 Reply
Jasbir Chatterjee 11 June 2015

It's a nice poem. It is difficult to keep our pain and grief bottled up and it does come out eventually.

1 0 Reply
Roop Rekha Bhaskar 11 June 2015

Even if not true, my heart goes out to the seven year old. very nice.

1 0 Reply
1 / 19
Peter Boyle

Peter Boyle

Melbourne / Australia
Error Success