Book of Poems

It was stolen

This is a poem I wrote years ago and included in my book 'Memories, Scars, and Survival: High School Years'

Trigger Warning - abuse 

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It was stolen from me

He stole it from me.

He stole it from me without care,

Without compunction,

Without wondering if it mattered.

Without knowing, someday,

I want to give it freely.

He despoiled me,

He took from me my soul.

And I want it,

I look for it.

It's not something

to be found again.

It meant everything to me,

To have given it freely

Without sorrow,

Alas, it was stolen.

I was far too young,

To understand that someday,

I would want to have it,

To give it with love.

I am broken,

I am despair.

What he took without hesitation,

Was never his to take.

I am weak,

But I'm supposed to be strong,

I am a victim,

But I'm supposed to be a survivor.

So I lie, I pretend, I act,

Like it never happened.

How far will I go?

Who will I become?

I am shame,

I am sorrow,

I am alone,

I am nothing.

Alone I cry, pray, wish,

Am I still a boy,

Will I ever become,

A man.