Some members use creative writing or art work to vent their emotions. Some writings have been published in books in the UK and USA; a few examples are printed here:
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS
by Betty
A fist lashes out then blood will run,
You ask yourself – ‘What have I done?’
Then you recall as many times before,
People were told ‘She walked into a door’
Feeling the pain and that terrible fear
You shed many silent tears.
A cover will hide the battered face,
They would never know the beatings you take.
You try to do and say things right,
But regardless he spoils for a fight.
You are a punchbag; a football too,
This is the life you always knew.
It is called ABUSE, but it is hidden away,
Behind closed doors it cannot stay.
Not only adults but children suffer great pain,
Perverted, sadistic animals will do it again.
So many have died in pain and despair,
Because nobody will show they care.
A scream and a call for help - such a plea,
Is ignored by those who are free.
Where decent people live and children play,
The ABUSER slides in with his victim to stay.
They never see his wife, so the reason is ‘She’s ill’,
But one day a hearse calls at his door, all is still.
STIGMA
by Ron
Please listen you, that think you are sane
Well think, think again.
Think of the plight of such as we,
Who suffer the pain of stigma, indignity.
For misery is the price we must pay
When our minds, with their thoughts, go astray.
Think of the distress caused by a passing remark,
That you dismiss, as just a lark,
Being totally ignored, when we try to speak.
Treat us like some kind of freak.
Then point a finger, laugh out loud.
Should we mutter to ourselves,
While under a dark cloud.
But what really does hurt, makes us cry
When we are not believed, that we are living a lie,
Let us remind you of a fact we know to be true,
Our illness can strike anyone from out of the blue.
So before you put us down with that knowing stare,
Or turn your back as if not to care,
Just think how different life could be,
If we were you, and you were we.
IN THE CORNER YOU’LL STAY
by Sam
For all those names you threw at me,
And all those sorrows I bore,
For all those times you broke me down,
This to my heart you tore.
For all those times I wanted it differently
And all those times I gave
For all those times it wasn’t enough
I tried so hard to be brave.
For all those times you laughed at me
And all those times I was blamed
For all those times you did me wrong
For this I shouldn’t feel ashamed.
For all those times I prayed for the end
For all those times I cried
For all those times you let me down
Something inside me died.
Now all these times I look back
And speak to you for a while
Know that I’m here fighting strong
And all those times I smile
You’ll have no hold on me soon
Your words will mean nothing at all
Because here I am, fighting strong
Here I am standing tall.
(c) All poems are copyrighted and cannot be reproduced without permission