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