A fist goes flying,
A child's heart cries,
But no sense is found,
Behind insanity's eyes.
The fist flies again,
No ending in sight,
To a father's desire,
To show off his might.
The child lies beaten,
But the beating goes on,
until the fury runs out,
And the father is gone.
Blue eyes stare sightless,
Up into the night.
An ambulance wails,
Starting the fight.
The child slips farther,
Til one calls him back,
And swears he will stave off,
Another attack.
The healing begins,
But the process is slow,
Only held by his promise,
That he will not go.
"What did I do?"
The child cries out,
For it was something he did,
Of that, he's no doubt.
One stays by his side,
And tells him, "Not true.
There are many of us,
Who will always love you."
With all of his friends,
The boy starts to heal.
The wall tumble down.
He begins to feel.
Joyful again, though
He'll never forget.
A new life begins,
Former challenges met.
-Copyright, 1999