I was reading a poem on JIP's blog and it reminded me of an inner child, actually it reminded me of more than one inner child. This poem is about one of those childre. I imagine the other will follow.
Little child under basement stairs
Seeking grandma's feral kittens
Knowing it's safer hiding there
Though being scratched and fiercely bitten.
Upstairs is where the real horror lurks
Drunken people groping, grabbing
Laughing mean, demanding perps
Little kids their very favorite hunting.
Wild kittens don't play favorites
They scratch and bite any seekers
They aren't fooled by lies and tricks
Instincts stronger than make believers.
So underneath the stairs the child stays
Seeking acceptance from wild kittens
Looking for proof she somehow fits
A world believed but always hidden.
If she can woe the feral kittens
Tame the savage beast inside
Maybe she will have a chance
To know that mama's lied