Shipwrecked – poem on adoption and PTSD


Born into a tiny shipwrecked boat forever out to sea

captors playing Hot Potato never touching me


Next ocean liner captors luxuriously adorned

smiling at their prize while showing their violence and scorn


Smothered by the bitterness of bondage and of lies

The captive plays the game and always keeps up her disguise


Never knowing whom to trust or whom to tell the truth

Trying to fight back and finding out that there’s no use


A captive so well-fed and dressed can offer no complaint

The dice was thrown the cards were played but Paradise this ain’t


They did the best they could they say that’s all they really knew

The captors say if you were in our place you’d do it too


So the captive sits in silence thanking God for the abuse

The life of turmoil chaos fear is better than a noose


The captive goes for help in life she tries and tries and tries

Just can’t seem to get past all the bitterness and lies


They did the best they could she says that’s all they really knew

and if I were in their place that must be what I would do too


If freedom is an option then this captive that will seek

The therapy and counseling will last for weeks and weeks


And after many years this captive might just get a peek

At the misery and pain that she buried way down deep


She worries that she’ll crumble if she opens up that box

She wants to get down to the pain and fear that she herself has locked


With the key that was discarded upon that Shipwrecked vessel

With all the demons from her past she knows that she must wrestle


Waiting for the day when that lock disintegrates

and all the hate and all the tears come out of their blocked state


Therapists ensuring her she never is alone

and how lucky she is to have found such a giving home


An attitude of gratitude is necessary here

But the captive must feel safe or she might drink another beer


Ruining five years of sobriety with one decisive swallow

And realizing all the gains she’s made were sick and hollow


She’ll fade into Oblivion and go back to the boat

The original shipwrecks still await.. but are they still afloat?

(C) Copyright -Stacey M. Patterson. All rights reserved.

5 thoughts on “Shipwrecked – poem on adoption and PTSD

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