NEW

What a year! We’ve gone from finding our feet to spreading our wings

Written by TMOF volunteer ambassador - Dr Linda Jane Newby A celebration of our achievements in 2021 2021 was a truly transformational year for The Maggie Oliver Foundation. As we start a busy new year with lots more exciting plans, we wanted to pause to reflect on...

NO ONE GIVES A SHIT ABOUT VICTIMS OF CHILD SEXUAL ABUSE

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...

VICTIMS’ COMMISSIONER SAYS CULTURE CHANGE TO SUPPORT AGGRIEVED LONG OVERDUE

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...

The Long Walk

Categories - Survivor Poems

A Plea to the Learned

Conception joy nine months of wait

Pushing out through a narrow gate

I cry, then faint, losing so much blood

I welcome my baby into our twosome hood

Puddle jumping, riding bikes

Climbing trees and taking hikes

We paint and draw, play dress up games

Puzzles, dancing, making up names

Schoolwork, friends, parties galore

National Trust, sleepovers, and so much more

We laughed and cried and played and danced

We sang and loved our lives enhanced

The sweetest cuddles, the softest touch

I could never love a child so much

Then darkness came from a TV screen

A look a word to break our dream

Preying eyes and sticky hands

Making mini beasts of the cutest lambs

Smoking pot and drinking came

Running from home became a game

Promises of better from ugly faces

Taking my child to disgusting places

My lamb to slaughter quickly went

Abusive words and rage unspent

Kicking screaming smashing things

Chaos, disorder this grooming brings

Crying siblings, mama broken

Calls for help and gets no token

So in they come with clipboards bent

Judging parents no sympathy felt

Reports were wrote, truth and justice gone

Making up stories, from breast, the child was torn

With disbelief, my heart it bled

All help lost, instead, with child they fled

Fighting in court, I hoped they’d see

That grooming and blame didn’t come from me

Business broken , money gone

Moving house, without her, no home

The judge he rules, a portly chap

His stern, drinking face delivered the slap

Not coming home but in another’s hands

A temporary mother has my firstborn lamb

To a system shattered by lack of cash

I implore you to stop and think of us

Mamas and Papas are not always to blame

Victims of another’s grooming game

They take our kids, fresh meat they say

Vulnerable and hurting, they make them play

They know the words they use will bring

“Fresh lambs to the slaughter” these bastards sing

So listen gents and ladies too

Those who sit on seats and make the rules

Regard  our stories, our sobs and pleas

Stop the slaughter save our lambs

Save future kids from grooming hands

You have the power you have the pen

Stop this pain repeating again and again and again

How to View Discreetly