Obey, A Poem by Melati

What is school?

My friends have always talked about that place everyday,

They told me it's a place better than home

I've never been outside of my house,

Let alone to school

They scratch these sticks to paper, 

Like it's some tree for a snake to slither

And what are these weird squiggly lines called numbers?

How do you know how many numbers is on a paper?

My mother only teach me to cook and clean,

She said I'll have to get married at 13

Is marriage a good thing?

I'm 12 now, it will be another year until I moved in with him

Should I get married?

My mother told me to obey my husband

Only him, me, and mother forever

Obey

Written by Melati, dedicated to children without education and victims of child marriage

Thanks A Lot, Uncle, A Poem by Melati

Greetings, Uncle

You once gave me candies,

And I thought that candy is candy

But now, I see candy as a threat

If only I have screamed that day

If only I can turn back time, I will

I will refuse to go into the bathroom

I will refuse for you to carry me

I regret that I did not screamed at that day

And I don't know how, somehow you have casted me into a spell, 

A spell that can only be broken by the loss of memories 

The blue skies seems gray, while the sun is a raining cloud

Have I ever wish to die?

My pencil broke, my tears have fallen

I found out because of that day, 

my future has been ruined

Thanks a lot, Uncle

Thank you, a lot

Thanks A Lot, Uncle 

Written by Melati Yuwono, dedicated for victims of child sexual abuse

Is My Home Still A Home? A Poem by Melati

Dear father and mother,

What are these bruises for?

I've worked my best just for you to stare at me

When will you ever say "I'm proud of you, son"?

Am I merely a form of entertainment to see?

When will you come back home, father?

When will you cook me lunch, mother?

Are we ever a family?

Or, is it just me?

I truly care for you, mother and father,

But when will you care about me?

When will you take me to vacation to somewhere where the sun sets?

Or when will we be like the family we wish to be?

Dear mother, dear father,

I'm just a child in this world

And both of you are my home, 

my place to rest, my place to love

Or is my home a place full of junk and bladed mouths?

Is my home still a home?

Is My Home A Home? 

Written by Melati, dedicated for victims of child neglect and physical abuse