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Poems

Writer's picture: Cherish MicheleCherish Michele

Updated: Jan 18

Poem 1

“One day, I’ll make you my wife,” you promised me.

That short little sentence filled me with so much glee.

 It gave me hope for a better future. 

A future full of adventures,

a future full of children,

and many, many pictures.

You taught me what love was, and I am grateful for that fact.

But we had only been married three days when you got deployed to Iraq.

I counted down each day,

eagerly awaiting your arrival, as I looked at all of our pictures,

 on my face, a big smile.

In my favorite one of ours, you had swept me off my feet.

A camera in one hand, as we dashed down the street.

That was the night that my little brother said he wanted to be like you,

And you joked that of all the dreams in the world, he chose the hardest one to pursue.

We laughed, because at the time, it was said in jest.

But had I realized how truthful your words were,

I surely would have been more distressed.

August 21, I remember it like it was yesterday.

It was on that tragic day,

that those knocks on the door came.

I was lying in bed, thinking about life, when I saw through my window,

those red and white stripes.

“Is he home early?” Was the first thought that crossed my mind,

because I didn’t want to believe.

I didn’t want to believe...that you would be gone from me.

We were supposed to grow old together.

That’s what our future held in store.

I wondered why my body temperature was the opposite of the weather,

as I walked down the steps to get to the door.

“Til’ death do us part, forever and always.” 

That’s what I was told.

And I was naïve enough to believe it,

because on that altar, as I looked into your eyes,

I forgot that this world can be cold.



Poem 2

Until it happens to you, 

you can’t know what I’ve been through.

Walk a mile in my shoes,

and see how much you bruise.

It’s not easy living a life having to look over your shoulder,

but that’s what happens when your abuser thinks he’s still your controller.

Escape one hurdle just to run into another.

Sometimes it feels as if I will never recover.

But I can’t think like that, can I?

Because my kids look to me to be their guide.

What would happen if their Mother withered away?

They’d go back to that man who used to hurt me everyday.

Or, they’d end up in the system,

which means I can not afford to be a victim.

I am a survivor.

That is what I am.

So I will raise my chest higher,

and believe that I can.



Poem 3

She looked down for just a sec.

Upon her eyes, there laid a text.

Three little words, she quickly read.

But little did she know…

For had she not looked away on that fateful day,

maybe she’d still be with us today.

Maybe she’d grow old and create stories to be told

Had she seen the truck

coming her way.



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