Insights
This page is dedicated to the victims of violence who have shared their feelings, art, stories and hearts with us.
These are their stories and their opinions only.
Click here to read "The Question: Why Does She Stay, Why Does He Batter?"
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There’s A Hole In My SidewalkAutobiography in Five Short Chapters By Portia Nelson
I.
I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I fall in,
I am lost
I am helpless
it isn’t my fault.
I take forever to find a way out.
II.
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I pretend I don’t see it,
I fall in, again
I can’t believe I am in this same place
But it isn’t my fault.
III.
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I see it is there,
I still fall in
it’s a habit
but, my eyes are open
I know where I am
it is my fault.
I get out immediately.
IV.
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk,
I walk around it.
V.
I walk down another street.
Quilt to honor and remember women who were murdered by their partners in Bristol Bay.
Hope
- TJ
The road is empty and bare
There was once happiness there
Now its not
You were once someone I loved to see
You were once someone I wanted to be
Hands were at first gentle and kind
Hands that were used for work and play
Now corrupted with an alcoholic way
I turned in and shut out the world
Searching for light when darkness
Instilled
I cried
I plead
I screamed inside
No one could hear me, my life denied
Until I prayed
And the Lord heard by dying need
I did not find Him, but
He found me
There once was an empty road
So empty and bare
He looked at me and smiled with care
He took me in when they threw me out
Wiped away all my tears
Took away all my fears
He became my mother
He became my father
He loved me like no other
Now I am under his loving care
The road is no longer empty and bare.
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