NO ONE GIVES A SHIT ABOUT VICTIMS OF CHILD SEXUAL ABUSE, it has taken me a lifetime to build up the courage to write this, but here we go….. I was born in 1966, a brother to a loving family in London and my parents at the time were hard working and for all their work...

Poem by John Roedel

my brain and heart divorced a decade ago over who was to blame about how big of a mess have become eventually, they couldn't be in the same room with each other now my head and heart share custody of me stay with my brain during the week and my heart gets me on...

This is my life, written down on paper

My name is ‘Rosie’. This is my life written down on paper. My childhood was not a very good one. My parents were heroin addicts and as you can imagine they were not very good at being parents. Throughout my whole life I had no boundaries no one to tell me off. I was...

Natural Thinking by Ria Walton

the frondescence of flourishing leaves  coming to life the essence of new life for spring the re birth of trees the birds singing their melodies sweet songs of morning nature alive with fresh new growth buds blooming their energy forthwith to bring, the floral...

The Three Girls Workshop

Three Girls Workshop With lockdown having restricted the hosting of events ‘in person’ the Foundation recently ran on online meet-up centred around the BAFTA award winning BBC mini-series Three Girls.  The programme (for which Maggie worked as the Programme...


By Ryan Hooper, PA Chief Reporter  A new, specific law is required to give more rights to those affected by crime, the Victims' Commissioner for England and Wales has said. Dame Vera Baird QC said a change of culture'' was long overdue'' to look after'' victims of...

“I feel lost, and I don’t know if this pain will ever leave me…..”

I  was abused from age 7 to 20. No one in my life knows except doctors/counsellors/helplines or the occasional Samaritan. I carry on every day like I'm absolutely fine. No one would ever know.   It's almost like having two lives which makes me very sad. I was...

The Damaged Warrior by Stevie

Categories - Survivor Poems

A summer’s day in August in nineteen eighty four, a day I can’t forget, forget forever more.

When life was meant to be happy for all six year old boys, what we really should be doing is playing with our toys, but that day felt so different and now I will explain the reasons why I’m damaged and why I’m always in pain.

A normal day with two mates standing in the field, wanting to build a camp to make our very own shield. The man was meant to protect us and protect us that man must, but on that very sad day is when I lost all my trust.

Now we are walking further through the trees, I feel the branches scraping and catching on my knees. Then it all becomes open a big camp this must be, me and my two friends are running around so free.

I then look in the corner and much to my despair, I cannot help but notice a dark but red armchair. I must admit right now this was not strange to me, as I was just a child a child that’s running free.

Then my mates are climbing, climbing up the tree, the adult is in the armchair and he is calling me. So as I walk towards him just like a little good boy, I get a funny feeling this is starting to become a ploy.

Then I started to notice the adult in the chair, for some peculiar reason is wearing no underwear. Before I even realised my clothes were being removed, then right there in that moment I was being abused.

For some unknown reason I couldn’t make it stop, the pain I started to feel was like being smacked with a rock. Then I started crying, why you hurting me, sorry he would say and stopped abusing me.

Once I had stopped crying from the pain that entered me, he thought it would be ok to carry on abusing me. I can’t explain the reason as I was only six, but now that I am older he was out to get his fix.

So then I started crying, why are you hurting me? Then I felt invisible as he was ignoring me. At last he finally stopped as he let go of me, then said if I tell anyone he’ll take my parents from me.

I then put on my clothes as quickly as can be, as all I wanted to do was get him away from me. Not looking where I’m going my legs I would scrape, now I found my moment now I could escape. Running through the fields just like a helpless mouse, all I want to do is get back to my house.

I knocked on my front door, I started to feel free, things started to feel better as my mum would cuddle me.  Look at the state of your trainers, what have you done to your shirt? an answer I couldn’t give as I was full of hurt.

Then I started to remember what that dirty man said to me, if I was to tell anyone he would take my parents from me.

So now you will all realise the pain embedded in me, this is not my fault it was him that damaged me. Yes I am Warrior that’s something I’ll always be, but I would trade it all in just so I could be free. If you ever see me looking so carefree, just remember this one fact the pain is always in me.


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