The Sun Was Shining
I lost my virginity
One cold October morn
Truth be told, it was stolen
The sun was shining
I lost my innocence
Control became an illusion
Thoughts descended into confusion
The wind was blowing
I lost my voice
Unable to tell a soul
A hidden secret sown
The angels were weeping
I lost my hope
Shame and anger grew
If only someone knew
The sun’s still shining
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Today’s poem is in response to the NaPoWriMo.net prompt for a simple sad poem. I could write simple sad poems all day long.
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A raw honest account of a traumatic event. The sun still shining at the end leaves one with a sense of loneliness. It is in stark contrast to the pain of the verse.
Thank you.
A powerful, personal share. Thanks for sharing the voice that you found and I’m so glad you found it. The sun, the hope, the faith are always the constant.
Thank you.
Raw to the bone, sad, but brave…
This is so raw, emotive and painstakingly honest.
Powerful ending!
Thanks.
I’ve followed you for quite a while so I’ve read a few parts of your testimony. How’s the memoir coming?
The manuscript is done, having been edited by a professional developmental editor. My husband has read it and I’m ready to start sending it to publishers. I sent my first submission last Friday and have 6 more publishers I’ve identified. I considered self-publishing, but had no peace. I don’t think that’s what God has planned. Thanks for asking.
You know, when it’s done, I’m hoping you’ll be on my launch team to get the word out. 🙂
The loss of innocence was more tragic than the deflowering; but even worse when rape is the delivery system, and both are lost.
I can only imagine that losing one’s virginity by choice would be wonderful. But I’ll never know for sure.
Yes I could write sad all day too, but I like to season them with hope. I hate to leave people in sadness when Christ offers hope. Your poem is sad, and tender, and yes the sun is still shining!
I agree. I usually like to pull in the hope of Christ even in a sad poem. Sometimes it’s more subtle, like in this one.
This is beautiful — painful and tragic, but still, so honest and tender.
Thank you.
The perpetrators depend on the silence of the victim and the support of the community/family. I pray she tells someone.
I did, eventually, and have even written a memoir about it. After 40 years I’m not naming names, though. Trusting God for justice.
Your journey is your own. I’m very glad you told someone. It’s a terrible burden to carry alone.