I Done Good

So young, too young, to project such dejection. So young, too young, to shoulder such depression. Confidence decays as the soul wanes. Brightness fades from the constant drains. Without support it is hard to grow, Even the small child seems to know. "Am I doing this right?" "is that okay?" Begging for praise day after day. When none is offered, Doctor takes note, The child does for himself, not meaning to gloat, What he hoped any adult he knows would, He pats himself on the back, "I done good". "Worthless, insolent, stupid boy" I remember well the tools you would employ. And while feeling the words and matching blows sting I could already hear them in the future continue to ring. Years have been lost to the lies you have told Because I let them seep in and take hold. What you did and let happen destroyed my childhood, So for as long as I remember I have wondered, "am I any good?" I have risen and I rise due to a skill I now possess. I have found how to draw strength from my past distress. Stronger, smarter, better than even I believed I could be, I find I agree with twenty years younger me. The sad troubled child who wanted to believe what I now should. Despite the turmoil, heartache, and trauma, I have thrived. "I done good."