This is a poem that I wrote and read at Mike Lew's Kirkridge retreat for male survivors a week or so ago. It means a lot to me.
Cleaning Out the Attic
I was cleaning out the attic
of forty years of junk
When I came across old papers
and some old clothes in a trunk
There were bills marked paid and scraps
from so many years ago
And precious memorabilia
from where I did not know
I came across an old green shirt
with patches on sleeves and chest
From troop one forty four when I was twelve
and passed my first class test
The shirt brought back angry memories
of innocence abused
Of debasement, humiliation
remembrance of being used
It made me feel so angry
I wanted to yell and shout
Then I looked again and saw
it was from such a little scout
The shoulders were no wider than
a foot or so at most
He was a helpless little boy
his innocence then a ghost
He was young and not so big
as I remembered him to be
How could I think, either now or then,
that he could wrestle free
I'm older now and wiser
but still a little boy
Who wants to love and be loved back
with happiness and joy.
This happened to me over the 4th of July week. I was depressed and angry until I was at Mike Lew's Kirkridge retreat this year and wrote it all out. I can finally say it and feel it, "It wasn't my fault!"
All the best to all of you and especially to my Kirkridge Brothers. Don't just survive, thrive! Success is the best revenge.
Steve from Chico
[ 07-30-2001: Message edited by: Stephen_5 ]
I want to stay as close to the edge as I can without going over. Out on the edge you see all kinds of things you can't see from the center.
Kurt Vonnegut (1922-2007)