*This one is for our children.
I see them,
Watching me,
And I see,
The hunger of their
Fantasies.
And the desire
Of their hurtful hands
To destroy something,
Truly of myself,
But then I see
Them turning
And combating
The feelings of abuse
When those hurtful
Hands…
Were merely
Pawns in the scheme
Of a cycle.
I see their fantasies
And I hear their stories
And see the remnant
Children
They once were…
Before their lives
Became a long abuse
Of excuses,
That lead them
To this place.
And so…
The challenge begins.
Some fear,
And some just
Act out the plays
Of their disguises
That hold the keys
To their academy awards.
Here come
The cries,
The screams,
Of the taken children,
Of long ago sheltered
Memories,
Of unknown fantasies
That became a reality,
Now here they come
Out…
And play…
And then you view
The portraits of the victims
Who they were,
Who they took,
And what hence
They created .
In essence
They are hiding!
They are hiding,
What only some of them
Wanted to stop,
And the rest
Just sit by waiting
For the challenge to reign.
Evening dawns
And cunning eyes
Begin to close
As the day's events
Become part of a computer's
Technology,
And I exit work,
To go home,
And wait
For the challenge
To come to
An end.
And then I return,
And so it begins…
Age 20 May 21, 99
*This one is for our children.