Cries From the Heart by Trish Hanan (best ereader for academics TXT) 📕

/> Tenderly, I’d cradle it in my arms.
And I would never let you down,
Or cause you any harm.

For I believe you’re special,
And wise beyond your years.
So open up to me and let’s put to rest,
All of your doubts and fears.

So you can relax when you’re with me,
And you can just be yourself.
Don’t keep your spirit all locked up,
Sitting empty on a shelf.

And if you should ever need a friend,
Who will love you because you’re you.
Then take a little look my way,
For my heart will always stay true.

I love you.


written: November, 1990


For Laura

You are so young
It just breaks my heart
To ever think of you crying.

I know that it’s hard
And you struggle thru life
But you have to keep on just trying.

You can’t stop now
You can never give up
For to give up means that they’ll win.

And you can’t let that happen
‘Cause it wasn’t your fault
They are the ones who did sin.

It started so early
Before you could know exactly
What was right and what was wrong.

But now you know better
And you know who was to blame
Now you are the one who stands strong.

Life goes on
I know that you’ve heard
That you cannot live in the past

But it’s so hard
When those feelings come up
To remember that they won’t last.

How busy you keep
Yourself just won’t work
Eventually you have to stop and think.

And if you keep
Going on the way that you do
Your life will pass by “Quick as a wink”.

You’ve got to slow down
It’s getting much too hard
To keep all of your lives going on.

You’ve got to rest
Give yourself a break now
You’ve earned your place in the sun.

Take it from me
I really don’t know too much
But of this, I believe that I’m right.

Today you’re nineteen
And your life has just begun
But soon your day will fade away to night.

God, you’re so young
And I love you so much
And I want to do anything that I can.

But you’ll have to
Let me into your heart
If you want me to lend you a hand.

Please, don’t be afraid
I know that you’ve been hurt
And I know that life’s treated you rough.

You can trust me
To not let you down, please Laura
Come to me when you’ve had enough.

written: November, 1990


The No-Sense Poem

If it’s not right,
Then it has to be wrong.
And if it is weak,
Then it must be not strong.
If it’s quick, then it’s short,
But if it lingers, it’s long.
And if you stay alone,
Then you’ll never belong.

And if there’s no light,
Then the color is black.
And it it’s your wife,
It’s a roll in the sack.
But if it’s your kid,
Then it’s just an attack.
And once innocence’s lost,
Then it never comes back.

If there’s marks on the outside,
Then it’s plain old abuse.
But when they’re on the inside,
You’re left feeling confused.
And it it’s not new,
Then it must have been used.
And you can throw it away,
Whenever you chose.

Like an old used up car,
Or a burned out TV set.
And if you are crying,
Then it’s your face that is wet.
And if you owe something,
Then they call it a debt.
And why they took it from me,
Is just something; I’ll never get.

It it’s not living,
Then it must be dead.
And if you tell someone,
Then it’s all in your head.
And if you are hungry,
Then you haven’t been fed.
And it life is a struggle,
You’re not getting ahead.

And if you are angry,
Then you must be mad.
And if he’s your father,
Then you call him DAD.
And if he smiles when he talks,
Then you know you’ve been had.
And some call it an apartment,
While others call it a pad.

But if it’s a small room,
Then it’s a padded cell.
And if you are sick,
Then you know you’re not well.
When you stumble and look up,
Then you know that you fell.
And if it’s a secret,
Then you know you can’t tell.

And if it’s all that you have,
Then it’s something they take.
And if it’s your heart,
Then it’s something they break.
And if it’s not real,
Then it must be fake.
And if they say nothing happened,
Then you must have made a mistake.

If it’s brown and it’s green,
Then it must be a tree.
And if it flies thru the air,
It’s a bird who is free.
And if you’ve come this far,
Then it’s here you should be.
And if you look closely,
Then it’s me that you see.

If you don’t understand this,
Then you really must be dense.
‘Cause all these crazy lines,
To some people makes no sense.
But if it was your life,
Then it’s just not all past-tense.
And one day it’ll get better,
Of this, I can sense.

So don’t try to hide it,
Or keep it inside.
For to you, it did happen,
And it’s never a lie.
And if you lose something,
Than it’s okay that you cry.
But there’s never an answer,
So don’t ask me why.

When you share it with someone,
Then it’s love that you send.
And if you pick up the pieces,
Then you know you can mend.
So when the wind blows harshly,
You can sway and not bend.
And when something is finished,
Then it must be the end.


written: December, 1990


May the Angels Bless Me

Well, here it comes again,
That old familiar feeling.
Just like a special friend,
I’m ‘bout ready to climb the ceiling.
When will it go away, be ended?
When will my broken soul be mended?

I know when I first open my eyes,
In the morning, the start of day.
Some days I just can’t face the lies,
Please God, I pray, take me far away.
I can’t handle all of my responsibilities.
It’s all just one step beyond my capabilities.

The whole day is full of sadness,
Just like when someone’s died.
And of life I can find no gladness,
‘Cause that someone’s me inside.
And my heart feel like it’s breaking.
I don’t know how much I can keep on taking.

Battered and weary, I drift through the day,
Where every little bump causes great pain.
No kind of medicine can make it fade,
And I feel as if I am going insane.
How many times must I fall and pick myself up?
Before I finally just lie down and give up?

The day has ended and I’m left alone,
With the memories that haunt me from the past.
Restless and weak, I pace the floors of my home,
Hoping against hope that the pain won’t last.
What can I give to the little one inside?
How can I tell her she no longer must hide?

Exhausted my body finally lies down to rest,
But in my mind the cyclone of feeling still rush.
A dreamless sleep may the angels to me bless,
And to past monsters may they give a forceful push.
No angels came to protect that little one who was me.
And if they don’t come soon, my soul will never be free.

written: December, 1990


A Never-Ending Ache

Insatiable is how I would describe,
This never-ending craving deep inside.

Within my soul lies a terrible seed,
As it grown I am filled with an aching need.

To what, I cannot even answer how or why,
And all I can do is just sit and cry.

I pace the floor ‘till my legs start to shake,
But that hollowness grows and my soul begins to ache.

Every day I try to find a new way to cope,
And every time I am left with so little hope.

I try to fill-up that empty space with food,
I eat and eat ‘till I’m sick, but that does no good.

So then I try to drown it with alcohol,
I drink and I drink, but I feel nothing at all.

I thought getting high would be a solution,
But even though I floated, it was just an illusion.

I try to use sex as a cure, a release,
But with man or machine, it’s just all so useless.

I try to write, I try to read, I even try to sleep,
But that feeling wouldn’t go away, it was mine to keep.

So, finally when the pain was too heavy a load,
And my brain felt like it was going to explode.

I turned to an old familiar friend – by blade,
And as the redness grew, the pain did fade.

And for a few moments the pain on the outside,
Over-rides the pain felt deep on the inside.

There’s a void in my being that nothing can fill,
And no matter what or how, perhaps nothing ever will.

written: January, 1991


Have I Been Cast Away

I bow my head and pray to God,
And then I wonder why.
He never listened to me before,
And he ignored me while I cried.

I think of all that Jesus did,
The miracles…the fish.
But for that little battered child,
He granted not one small wish.

He turned his back on me,
Just when I needed him most.
And cast me out into the wilderness,
Alone, confused and lost.

You never heard my cries, oh Lord,
And you let those grown-ups hurt me.
Why didn’t you stop them,
How could you let that little heart bleed?

Some children die from sickness, disease,
And some grow up and live ‘till they’re old.
Why did you let me suffer so much,
What did I do to make you so cold?

But I guess I haven’t learned a thing,
‘Cause to you, I still try to pray.
Are you listening now to me, God,
Or has my soul been cast away?

written: January, 1991


When I was Five

Hi. My name is Patty. I am five years-old and I’m really excited because it’s Christmas and maybe if we’re very good and we listen to Daddy and be very quiet and let Mommy take a nap, then maybe after Christmas, Santa will bring us a new baby brother or sister. I hope it’s a sister, ‘cause I’ve already got two brothers and they’re not much fun. I’ve only got one sister and a baby sister would be just like my new baby-doll I got for Christmas, but a lot more fun. And Mommy says that I can help her take care of the new baby!

I really hope it’s a girl, ‘cause we had a baby boy last time, but he died. Daddy got mad and Mommy cried and then she went away to the hospital and then the baby boy died. Daddy got really sad and said he was sorry and baked Mommy a cherry cake and put it up high on top of the dish dresser and we weren’t allowed to eat it until Mommy came home. I was only three then, but remember how pretty the cake was and when Mommy came home from the hospital,