This Poem was Submitted By: Mandie J Overocker On Date: 2010-11-22 21:43:00 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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What I Can't Tell You

What can I say About such awful things Events that should never have happened? I can say she was young I can say she was small I’ll tell you she was scared And hid it all How can I even begin to describe The man to whom she belonged? Pleasantly nice, an upstanding citizen To the public world  He could do no wrong A restaurateur and theatre owner He provided so well for family affairs But to him they were bound An even exchange Puppets for his own Grotesque play Her father owed him This much she knows But what she can’t say  I don’t know He was a big man With big hands and big arms A booming voice and sly smile  That softened on site Director he was Of appalling young plays A lesson to learn His friends taught his ways Take off your clothes Sit down over here Smile, say cheese That’s good my dear. Now what she can’t tell you  Is what happens next  She don’t understand How any of it could They were so small His friends were so big But a trade is a trade And this is the gig They pleasured his friends While the cameras were rolling Bright lights all around them Take one that’s a wrap. Take two, take three Maybe four maybe five But every shoot got harder To still feel alive What I can’t tell you  Is she died every time A little bit more  Each time he said smile You like this young lady  You’re such a sweet child Now pose for big daddy Spread for a while Her legs would hurt  After every night’s shoot But the burning inside Was more than a little The poison she swallowed The candy they ate Was nothing like the Bubblegum in the store But like it they did  Cuz if not then why Didn't they scream or Even just try? What she can’t tell you I can’t even write She's mortified, ashamed And filled with fright She's afraid she will die Or be stolen away To learn another lesson And retaught the old ways I wish you could tell What she's trying to say As a child porn film star It was God awful play Perhaps now you know  What she can’t tell you But what matters most Is that tell you I didn’t.

Copyright © November 2010 Mandie J Overocker

This Poem was Critiqued By: Lora Silvey On Date: 2010-11-28 01:00:58
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.85714
Mandie, what an ambitious and somber write. Your occaisional rhyme and easy flow made for a well flowing read though the subject is quite hard to digest, we all want to close our eyes and pretend it doesn't exist but it does. Even those very young envolved try to block it, but those that know and don't speak are the most dispicable--the ones that sit on the sideline to rake in dollars...and what of the little souls that are lost? Excellent, keep speaking out. Lora

This Poem was Critiqued By: cheyenne smyth On Date: 2010-11-26 16:04:59
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.66667
Hi Mandie, This world of child who is forced to make porn films is pitiful to say the least. I don't think any of them start out thinking it is a bad thing but they are mislead and used. Your poem is very descriptive but oh so heart-breaking. I find nothing that I would change in this piece. You have a random rhyme that pulls the lines down the page with ease. Well done. Best wishes, cheyenne
This Poem was Critiqued By: Tony P Spicuglia On Date: 2010-11-22 22:22:29
Critiquer Rating During Critique: Unknown
Although I know the industry, and the excesses, and whether this is indeed autobiographical or merely allegorical, the problems remain the same. Child abuse and rape remain an ongoing ill that strikes world wide, pornography notwithstanding. It is a powerful look at what is behind the eyes, that once free, nobody may ever know. I believe if you shortened it some, and edited out the unnecessary words, it would add to the power. As I have said; this story cannot be told enough.
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