The Old House On Hickory Grove Road - Poem by Lorene Kinsey
On a trip down memory lane
Stumbled into my past of pain
Looked for the words that stained the walls
And the homemade faces Aunt Rose made for dolls
The cabinet where I attempted to hide
From the predator who then called my mother wife,
And the field that kept the crab apple tree
Where the grass was tall and he humiliated me.
Try to remind myself as I did way back then
I accepted this punishment to protect all of them.
For a moment the fear and intimidation crept in
But I am not so weak to let that awful man win.
So I thought of this place where my innocence was lost
And instead of the hurt, I shifted my thoughts
To my three little brothers playing in the yard
On tricycles and bikes tossing balls near and far
My older and younger sisters playing baseball with me
There was never such a time we were so happy and free
So I take with me the memories so precious to us all
And lock them in my heart, later to recall.
Comments about The Old House On Hickory Grove Road by Lorene Kinsey
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
- Still I RiseMaya Angelou
- The Road Not TakenRobert Frost
- If You Forget MePablo Neruda
- DreamsLangston Hughes
- Annabel LeeEdgar Allan Poe
- IfRudyard Kipling
- Stopping By Woods On A Snowy EveningRobert Frost
- Do Not Stand At My Grave And WeepMary Elizabeth Frye
- TelevisionRoald Dahl
- I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love YouPablo Neruda