Mary Havran

. Walking Wounded

Somewhere, sometime, you were Wounded
Maybe as early as infancy when you were denied
All the essentials of the bonding experience
Perhaps the wounds were inflicted
When another toddler refused to return the toy you readily shared
Or by the mean girl who broke your favorite colored crayon
Or the bully who pushed you on the playground
Or perhaps it happened that first time
Someone more sophisticated, though lacking empathy,
Assailed your ears with a course laughter,
Aimed at you like a lethal weapon
Contrasting the cheerful chorus of joy laughter had always been
Maybe it happened the day you ran home crying
Mother revealed a secret: “Not everyone you meet will like you”
Unwelcome words that wounded and wound their way
Like strangling ivy around your core
Taking root in your heart of hearts
Passing years provide a scale of scar
Yet you are Wounded still

Somewhere, sometime, your Innocence was lost
Maybe it happened when your missing bicycle
Was spotted in the driveway on the next block
Or the day that special pebble found on the playground
Mysteriously vanished from your backpack
Maybe it was the first time you witnessed another’s tears
And yet perceived no evidence of physical injury
Perhaps it was the initial instance when you caught someone in a lie
Betrayal became a biting sting instead of just a word
Maybe it was on the day the friendly neighbor invited you in for a visit
Closed the door, pulled down the shades
And the most sacred shelter of innocence was shattered
At the unworthy hands of one of life’s lowest thieves
You learned another bitter truth
The knowledge of good and evil force-fed like bitter fruit
Time having done all it can to repair or bury
Yet Innocence is lost still

Whatever time, whatever place, or in whatever manner
Those who contributed to your loss of Innocence
Or at whose hands you were first Wounded
Do not hold the power to heal you
And they never will.
Even should they acknowledge and repent
You would still be walking through life wounded
Your initial Innocence still lost
Only you can sooth the hurts,
Bind the wounds, reclaim your rightful share of Innocence

Only Your Indomitable Spirit Can Prevail

Yours the choice to reject surrender and to overcome
You, accepting the role of Hero of your own life,
Who, in casting off from the past,
Becomes the Captain of all future voyages
Becoming one with the rest of us
We, the “Walking Wounded”

Poem Submitted: Monday, January 28, 2008
Poem Edited: Monday, January 28, 2008

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Comments about . Walking Wounded by Mary Havran

  • sky dreams (4/14/2009 11:42:00 PM)

    'only your indominatable spirit can prevail' i love that line.. thank you for this =)

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  • Chelsea DeVries (1/26/2009 1:08:00 PM)

    This poem is amazing! Great job!

    All the best,
    Chelsea

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  • Meggie GultianoMeggie Gultiano (12/20/2008 8:01:00 AM)

    a great write, Mary..Love this.

    Hugs,
    Meggie

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  • Loyd C Taylor SrLoyd C Taylor Sr (12/12/2008 5:31:00 AM)

    Good morning poet friend Mary. This was a very touching read and a true story for so many, many people. You captured the theme and made it speak! I enjoyed, Loyd

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  • Subbaraman N V (3/27/2008 1:59:00 AM)

    'Only your indomitable spirit can prevail'- what a fine message! Thanks for sharing!

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  • Paul Maybury (3/15/2008 1:56:00 AM)

    Very fine poem. Very disturbing, in the original sense of stirring up the turbid and giving glimpses into it. Thank You, Mary.

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  • Barry Van Allen (3/8/2008 8:45:00 AM)

    Mary,

    I thought that this was too long,
    but, I found myself thinking, at the end,
    that it wasn't long enough somehow.

    B.V.A.

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  • Maria Rose (3/7/2008 3:05:00 PM)

    I lived through your poem
    really, I never wanted to re live it.
    Yet, It is a work of art, So I re lived and survived
    And feels, suprisingly, happy.
    Thanks
    love
    Maria

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  • Irene Clark-hogg (2/28/2008 10:30:00 PM)

    This is such a beautiful and yet sad tale. I enjoyed it very much.
    Everyone is hurt by life to some degree but the strong find that ability to heal.
    Kindest Regards, Irene

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  • Shelley L Baxter-stanley (2/19/2008 7:00:00 AM)

    Brilliant and just an amazing read Mary...so much so that I wish I wrote this piece of art!
    ((Smile)) and that says alot to me anyway.Please keep sharing as your writing skills and ideas in this one amazed me.I Love the concept and the advise shared at the end....HOW TRUE is is that we all are amongst the 'Walking wounded.'...and if someone isnt yet...they will be once they live long enough.
    Take Care of U
    Shelley

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  • Jody TalibartJody Talibart (2/17/2008 7:51:00 PM)

    Brilliant, you've captured those small pains that cut so deep and the life-shattering moments that refuse to be buried. I felt this poem profoundly. I do think, however, that sometimes we can 'surrender to win' - surrender is not necessarily a bad thing, if it means we surrender finally to the pain and let the tears out that our false pride wouldn't allow. I know you meant it in the 'capitulation' sense. Just food for thought.

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  • Meggie Gultiano (2/17/2008 5:05:00 AM)

    A brilliant and wonderful write, Mary..! wow..this is really something!

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  • Prasanna Kumari (2/12/2008 11:01:00 PM)

    the common things which we experience brought out by the beautiful touch of poetic words..yes, we are walking wounded, many times not knowing how to heal it and bearing the pain of those wounds and still collecting strength to move forward.....very powerful poem...

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  • Roger Cornish (2/11/2008 5:02:00 PM)

    Breathtaking.
    A lesson in life...
    Your own bible, Mary this is classic.
    Your so brilliant..... an inspiration.
    Rogerx.

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  • Con Nie (2/10/2008 2:20:00 PM)

    I like the line 'becoming the Captain of all future voyages'. Inspirational poetry at its best. Thanks. Sincerely, Connie Webb

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  • Anita Atina (2/10/2008 10:33:00 AM)

    Mary this is a work of art, if this was a symphony, it would be Bach/ chorale prelude for organ! :) Cheers Anita

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  • Lime and Tequila with a Splash of Pineapple (2/10/2008 12:15:00 AM)

    I commented earlier. But was re-reading this poem. The first lines speak to me so strongly,

    Somewhere, sometime, you were Wounded
    Maybe as early as infancy when you were denied
    All the essentials of the bonding experience

    I've had several people in my life like this. My older brother suffered from fetal alcohol syndrome. And I have another person in mind, who just can't connect with other people in the right way. It's not quite what you wrote about, but reading your words caused echoes of memories to rise up.

    We have so many walking wounded in our world. And we can't always help them, though, we try.

    Sorry for the double comment.

    Peace,


    L&T

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  • Meggie Gultiano (2/9/2008 3:16:00 AM)

    a very powerful message you brought here, Mary..i can also relate to this

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  • Alison Cassidy (2/9/2008 1:13:00 AM)

    Sadly, there are some for whom the wounds of childhood will never heal. For most of us, however, they are no more than slippery stepping stones in the fascinating journey of life and we learn to negotiate the rapids. There is a wealth of experience tucked up in this well written piece about life and choice and growing up with dignity. Excellent poem.
    love, Allie ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

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  • Duncan Wyllie (2/7/2008 4:27:00 PM)

    And yes, we still walk, onwards and through it all, with scars and insecurites to bear
    Mary...This is brilliant and such wisdom contained

    Love duncan X

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