what did i do...


what did i do...

sitting on the floor with a drawing pad...
a young boy sketches with a dull leaded pencil
the round edge making fat lines on the paper

a trance fixated within the eyes
a blank stare upon his face
completely unaware of the mess hes made

a single tear wheals up in his eye
slowly it rises and spills over the rim
it creeps down his cheek and roll to his chin

unanimated the boys pencil scribes across the paper
silently the images are cast without thought
and smeared by his hand dragging across the lines
             a single thought enters his mind...

             he thinks outloud to himself...
             "what did i do?"

quietly he sits alone in his room
the only sound comes from the friction on the paper
his pencil nearly worn down to the wood

his left hand unconsciously fidgets with his showlace
while his right hand is terribly busy with the unnoticed art
he stares at the wall but its really not there

listless his eyes appear to wonder unaware
glancing back and forth from the paper to... nothing
the world is invisible

the only thing he sees... other than the smeared images of his sketch
memories he cannot forget
visions he sees in his minds eyes
        a single thought enters his mind...

        he thinks outloud to himself
        "what did i do... that was so bad?"

slowly his eyes fill up with sad
like tiny soldiers falling to their deaths
the tears leap from his eyes

he feels them advancing... running down his face
soothing against the stinging pain
the outline of a hand... welted up the size of a mans

the strawberry that stains his cheek
just below his left eye
seems to swell as he starts to cry

a sound at the door... thump... thump...thump...
quickly he brushes the tears away with his sleeve
erasing all evidence that he is weak

               a brooding voice comes into his space
               "F@&KIN' PU**Y..." says the brood with a smirk on his face

the boy pretends not to notice
absently he shifts his focus... to his sketch
now stained with tears and smeared with neglect

the subconscious thought of his unwielding pencil
the images cast upon the page
the figure of a monster alive and full of rage

smeared across the paper
blurred into the background
its giant hand striking across the face with a smack
           a single thought comes back

           he thinks outloud to himself...
"what did i do... that was so bad... that i deserved that"


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LenaM commented on what did i do...


Dano oh you have captured this so well !! I would "disappear "for hours sometimes days . I have so many blank holes I must look like s Swiss Cheese . memories have been coming back and I'm not so sure they all will and I'm even more frightened of what I don't remember

Crush commented on what did i do...


this one goes straight to my favourites ! again, thanks for sharing !



thanks crush...

stefy commented on what did i do...


now, you know about my sadness...to be honest is a gift...one more thank you so much!!!!



i am sorry that you are sad but i am glad that you are able to write about it and express it honestly... thank you

cousinsoren commented on what did i do...


OMG! This is a universal and tragic story of child abuse, all over the world. Why must adults hate children so, is an inexplicable issue, There are more than a hundred answers and reasons given by psychologists and sociologists. Hundreds of books have been written ( some of the writers becoming weqlthy out of their studies of abuse) but there it seems none has adequately supplied preventative measures. Child abuse seems to as addictive as drug abuse or alcoholism or some other vices. This poem goes to the heart of men ,with its explicitness, its well- wrtiten verses, its emotion and imagey..



thanks oren... it would nice to live in a world where children did not suffer abuse from the hands of violent adults... a subject close to my hert because of my own expierenes as a child... this [ies was actually written from the recollectipn of an even that happened to me when i was...

RoseFromARose commented on what did i do...


The nasty little thing about abuse is those scars never heal. They're put on a shelf after awhile but it lingers like a burn. It was an emotional write and I enjoyed it. Thank you for sharing.



thank you for taking the time to read and comment...

If I feel physically as if the top of my head were taken off, I know that is poetry.

Emily Dickinson (1830-1886) American poet.

Dano’s Poems (150)

Title Comments
Title Comments
from an angels view 19
searching the darkness 10
a letter from santa 14
thanksgiving (acrostic) 12
the depth of... 11
ive wished 7
absentee 12
this is... 13
a journey into the dark 7
the cold of november 14
your voice 12
the yin to the yang 14
twisted 9
autumn 14
i think it happened again 11
luna~tic 19
the darkness 13
a blinding eclipse 16
the universe... 18
the wind of sorrow 14
my sorrow weeps 16
where but the dark... 12
immortal kiss 47
in a darkened room 17
our mother 7
within these flames 12
nocturnal (acrostic) classic rock 7
behind wrought iron bars 25
what i write (part 2) 8
today 17
the world in grey 6
the reality of... 5
in the shadow of a mountain 6
nothing will ever be the same 10
of cemetary dreams (and nightmare scapes) 12
next to a bed... 18
but... 15
at a funeral 12
seventeen (acrostic) 11
the fortunate one(s) 7
what did i do... 24
ashes to dust 45
dancing in the moonlight 14
disempowering the pain 14
the butterfly 10
what i write 14
sorry (i killed the after glow) 11
the humidity rises (an erotic tale) 9
pieces of light 8
the sad pumpkin &... 9
my face 12
for a long time... 14
(an explination of) distractions 6
tell me... 6
the charelston cookie tin 9
silent self destruction 8
exposed 13
the means of the day (a true valentines poem) 2
a poem about nothing... 8
blood bleeds black 7
dissecting myself 3
i will be just fine 3
the stacking of bricks 3
the complexities of depression... 4
spirits & ghosts 3
**random chaos** 2
bloodlust 3
...somethings missing... 2
15 years... 3
beauty sleeps entombed (parts 1 & 2) 3
**untitled** 2
the overstuffed closet 3
the candy dish 2
anxiety speaks 2
**untitled** 2
myself and the light 6
the fog 2
fire and tears 3
cerebral meltdown 3
sometimes i wish... 1
drawing strength from a starr... 2
**untitled** 1
the flower garden 3
nature... 1
reaching out 2
the dark and the light... 1
the insistent demon 2
sorry... 3
forgive me lover... (parts 1 & 2) 2
im so sorry... 3
**no title... just random thoughts** 1
to eternity... 2
winter wind whips... 1
tired 2
lucid dream 1
the rains came... 2
the mourning light 1
another jagged pill 1
i just cant... 1
burning within 4
inside of me 1
projected pain 1
the night... the dakness & the truth? 1
panic 2
the mourning fog 1
when the fires burn 1
through the night 1
shadow casts 0
a mournful rain 1
i cant protect me 2
my comfort place 0
an echo shifts 1
the monster 2
welcome to my life 0
the past is alive... 1
... 1
standing on the edge 2
my smile... 1
anxiety 2
my reality 0
another view... 0
untitled... 0
jagged pill 2
in the dark 1
what to do 1
how can i... 1
life... 3
a crust of pain 1
keeping me weak... 2
my dark world 3
another night of wondering 2
in the attic 4
i hold most dear 2
the me inside of me 2
another day 1
dreamed in a dream 2
a year in the life (dealing with death) 1
i look... 1
where my secrets are kept 1
a mouthful of words 2
i will not fear (when my eyes are blind) 2
i am aware (i'm already dead) 7
standing in the silence of my own shadow... 3
a blinding dark 1
growing pain 3
the longest of nights 5
... 7