There was a little, stuffed, ratted lamb
I used to carry around.
they found it in my closet hidden away.
What they don't know
Is that's where I used to stay.
Hidden and safe
From the war outside,
Forbidden to come out; I promised I wouldn't, But I lied.
Certain things you can't unsee
But I didn't take the ratted lamb with me.
I left it hidden away like I should have been.
Instead, I instilled a fear of men in my head.
that was the first night I didn't bring my little lamb to bed.
The old ratted thing was all I could protect.
Sure her little life wasn't perfect, always hidden out of sight.
clothes pins on her ears so she didn't hear the fights.
But I did my best to give her all I could.
Taking care of her the way I knew I should have been given care.
I became a Mom to the ratted lamb, because my Mom wasn't there.
She never once closed my ears with clothes pins.
I'd forgive her if she did.
But what's unforgivable, is that she didn't like how I hid.
I guess she wanted me to live in reality and not to be sheltered.
But I sweltered in the heat of truth.
so my little lamb I sheltered, my little lamb I soothed.
I still have the ratted thing, we sit side by side.
But now neither one of us has to hide.
Except for from time to time
When I hide from the memories
That brew
Inside.
© copyrighted Nicole Ann Osborn
Sep 2, 2014
Sep 2, 2014 at 2:40 PM UTC
There was a little, stuffed, ratted lamb
I used to carry around.
they found it in my closet hidden away.
What they don't know
Is that's where I used to stay.
Hidden and safe
From the war outside,
Forbidden to come out; I promised I wouldn't, But I lied.
Certain things you can't unsee
But I didn't take the ratted lamb with me.
I left it hidden away like I should have been.
Instead, I instilled a fear of men in my head.
that was the first night I didn't bring my little lamb to bed.
The old ratted thing was all I could protect.
Sure her little life wasn't perfect, always hidden out of sight.
clothes pins on her ears so she didn't hear the fights.
But I did my best to give her all I could.
Taking care of her the way I knew I should have been given care.
I became a Mom to the ratted lamb, because my Mom wasn't there.
She never once closed my ears with clothes pins.
I'd forgive her if she did.
But what's unforgivable, is that she didn't like how I hid.
I guess she wanted me to live in reality and not to be sheltered.
But I sweltered in the heat of truth.
so my little lamb I sheltered, my little lamb I soothed.
I still have the ratted thing, we sit side by side.
But now neither one of us has to hide.
Except for from time to time
When I hide from the memories
That brew
Inside.
© copyrighted Nicole Ann Osborn
