Advice

The worse advice I was ever given

Was from a social worker,

She was career driven,

Of my life an observer.

How she convinced

Me I wasn’t being abused?

My feelings dismissed,

She left me confused.

I was, to a certain degree,

Separated from life,

That power she

Held over me like a knife.

I felt diminutive

With her by my side,

She was prohibitive,

Our personalities collided.

Like the way a honey bee zips

From petal to petal,

She was like an eclipse,

But I had mettle!

I had a chilling thought,

As cold as a winters stream,

That I should have fought,

Because it wasn’t all a dream!

Through her advice,

She wore a rueful smile,

If I had a device,

I would have run a mile.

For the abuse continued

For a further two years,

I could have sued

And ruined her career.

Grandfather was a name

He would never be again,

But him I overcame,

And my issue with men.