A Stranger In My Home (POEM)

This is a poem I wrote when I was 20.  That was 27 years ago.  I wrote this out of anger to deal with the rage of being attacked in my own home, held at knife point by a stranger in my bed, who tried to rape and kill me.  It changed my life, that moment, and that is where I met the personal hand of God.  But yet, I still battled rage.

A Stranger In My Home (POEM)

The anger inside as I reflect,

How dare you enter my home.

Not to knock, to merely enter,

A place where you aren’t known.

How dare you walk into my house

And come into my kitchen.

While all are sleeping peacefully,

What plot are you pitch’n?

How dare you walk into my home,

Taking a knife for your desires.

A stranger to me, I do not know.

Such anger you inspire.

How dare you walk into my house,

And walk into my room.

While I sleep quietly, there you stand,

Plotting out my doom.

How dare you walk into my home,

And lie on top of me.

With my own knife at my own throat,

How dare you anger me!!

How dare you walk into my house,

Next time I will prepare.

For if you enter a second time,

I will KILL YOU – it’s only fair!!!

~ L. Davis, #thepoetfarmer

This is the first poem I ever wrote, over 25 years ago.  It was the only way I could express the pain, anger, rage and fear that coursed through my body – through the written word.  I have been a poet ever since.  Today, Jan. 23rd, 2017 is the first time I have ever copied over, from that piece of paper, still stained with tears, that poem.  And it is the first time anyone has ever seen it since I wrote it only for me.  You will note the word in red RAGE at the side and the red paint.  Not sure how and why the red paint got there but the knife marks on my neck stayed too for a time.  I share this for all the survivors out there in the world who have been harmed but who are not victims.  Victimhood is NOT the answer to pain and suffering – overcoming is.  And God intervened that day in my life and saved it.  May God bless you each extra today and forward!!  And, I love you across this whole planet, who have been hurt.  I have matured and worked through the rage.  I am now a fighting Christian and do not take the same posture as the last line in the poem.  I was 20 then and still fresh and innocent to the world.  Now I am wiser and have learned there are better ways and that is by overcoming and leaning on God.  I do not agree with the protests that took place in DC, but yet I understand the pain and grief of many women who walk, silently, housing huge pain.  There are better ways to come together and heal, ways that dont harm others, ways that make points clear.  I want to be part of THAT womens group — to heal and do no harm, simultaneously.

May God Bless YOU!

poem

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