The Unforgivable


It starts with little goosebumps

And then years of pain

Immense pain for the child

Who goes through

What a child must not.

And slowly, it paints itself

As an ugly red on their reality.

What started as a game

Didn’t quite end like one.

Spreading silence on their lips

For the coming years

Of fear and disbelief.

It doesn’t stink anymore down there

But perhaps your mind does.


You know what’s it like?

To meet everyone new

And having nothing at all to say?

Even when they are asked to.

There’s immense pain

Behind that silence

It’s you.

That broken confidence,

It’s your gift.


And look at you

You’re not even sorry.


For years people around

Will try to make him smile and talk;

And he just might

But you’ll always stay

As the terror behind his eyes.

You’re not sorry.


Dad’s trying hard

Took her to the psychiatrist

He gives her medicines

That put her to sleep

Sure that’s easy

She must try.

You’ve made her incurable.

And you’re not even sorry.


I sit in the light

And stare out of the window

Darkness reminds me of you,

Your laughter haunts my dreams

But surprisingly there

I push you away,

With all the force

What I did not have then.


I am sad because I am not alone

There are many like me

Who are bruised and battered

Whose innocence was tattered.

Some of our Moms hush hush;

Asking us to forget

Like nothing ever happened

Because you are related

Or Someone respected

Because of your age

Or your wallet.


And You’re not sorry.

Because even if you were

It wouldn’t matter.

And however tempting

But I won’t curse your child.


But I am happy

Because I release myself today

From the pain I didn’t deserve;

And I am far away from you

That you have no hold over me

And one day I might speak up.

But even if I don’t

Or what if I do?

And they standup for me..

But even if they don’t;

Somewhere beneath your damned conscience

You’ll remember what you did to me.


Remember, when you’re too old

When money won’t matter

And your kids leave you,

To die alone.

And just before your last breath

You’ll say sorry to me in regret.

People say one must forgive a dying man

And other brave things about forgiveness

But I won’t forgive you.

I will not forgive you.


(This poem is the story of a child who was sexually abused as a kid, by someone really close. Just like 50% of victims of child abuse in India, are abused by a known person. You didn’t deserve it. And it wasn’t your fault. I feel for you. I am with you.)



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