Monsters

For thirty seven years I carry this It is something I just can’t dismiss The damage inflicted from another That cure you can’t get from your mother Innocence was taken without after thought Was this monster man ever caught? How many others did he hurt? He is made of pure dirt! A seven year old boy just wanting to belong His arms was so strong Holding me face-down Thinking he was just the clown Penetration never hurt so bad I wonder if it would have happened, if I had a dad Crying and tears made him stronger This was just the start and went on longer That was not merely enough He liked doing sick stuff Forcing things now in front I am just thankful it was all blunt Now walking with a neon sign Where does one draw the line? Monsters are everywhere How much can one boy bare?