He called me
Good-for-Nothing,
Worthless, Useless, Weakling,
I’d never amount to anything,
all I was good at was crying.

He called himself
Adoptive Father,
Family Man, Community Pillar,
Church Leader and Scout Master;
so his “mistakes” didn’t matter.

He called me
Baby, Sissy, Pansy,
I was like a Girl and certainly
a Pathetic, Limp-wristed Disgrace,
said I’d grow up a Hopeless Case.

They called themselves
He-Men and Jocks;
They said they must get off their rocks.
They were the ones who dished the crap;
I was the one who took the rap.

They called me
Faggot, Gay and Queer;
They played upon my deepest fear.
They made me feel like a Boy-Whore,
They treated me like that and more.

I called myself
a Wretched Mess,
a Worthless Victim – even less
than anyone could ever guess,
a Nothing, shattered under stress.

So now I’m called
Child of Abuse,
Walking Wounded, Work-in-Progress,
I know the truth exposed in cries,
once hidden under piles of lies.

And some day I
will re-name Me,
showing the Man I want to be.
I’ll have no more shame to lose;
I’ll bear only the Name I choose.

Lee

Very good Traveler. Today only YOU have the right to define who you are. Those names from the past no longer have any power over you.

thanks, Gary.
i'm starting to believe that.
Lee