by Robin Goza
Not For Sale
Author requests article critique
Not For Sale
Author requests article critique
A beautiful boy adored his mom.
He thought she was his girlfriend.
His dad was gone; when he came back,
Her love came to an end.
He followed his dad wherever he’d go,
To fish or hunt or pray.
He’d imitate him all he could,
To be like him some day.
His dad was busy with three jobs;
He’d preach, teach school, and sell.
He loved his son with all his heart,
But didn’t know him well.
His parents thought they did their part
To give him what he needed.
A loving touch, an “I love you”—
For this, his heart still pleaded.
Some teachers couldn’t see beyond
The things he couldn’t do.
They labeled him; they didn’t know
What they said wasn’t true.
But somehow their words molded him
And changed this loving child.
No one stood up for him to say
He isn’t dumb or wild.
They didn’t know how sensitive
A little boy could be.
The careless words they uttered then
Might not hurt you or me.
But they began to pierce his soul,
To change what he’d become.
It’s not the boy; open your eyes.
The words were what was dumb!
How could the parents just not see
The pain brought on their son?
Could it have been the teachers weren’t
The only careless ones?
Perhaps they could not understand
Things they had never learned.
They “stuffed” their pain, “got over it,”
But deep inside it burned.
Their goodness showed to all around.
He worked hard to provide.
She helped the neighbors, those in need.
The kids stayed by her side.
Her oldest was the model child.
She had the sweetest baby.
The middle two worked hard to win
Her love or notice, maybe.
She labeled him “rebellious son,”
And called him the “black sheep.”
He heard her tell a neighbor that,
When she thought he was asleep.
It’s true he was a stubborn child.
At times he could annoy.
He can’t forget one incident
From when he was a boy:
She told him not to make a “peep,”
So that’s just what he said.
He got a spanking, not a laugh,
And went to cry in bed.
No matter how he tried, excelled,
He never heard, “Well done,
My son, I’m very proud of you.
To me you’re number one!”
Instead, he got the putdowns
Or nothing. Which was worse?
Her hidden pain and bitterness
Had now become his curse.
But why did no adult protect
This fragile, hurting youth?
Was the silence best for him,
Or did it deny the truth?
He needed that assurance
And that protection too
From the barrage of insults
That stuck to him like glue.
A child who’s injured by the one
God put there to protect
Can love, but also be confused,
Pass hurt on with the rest.
The beautiful young boy
Grew up to be a man
Who loves the Lord with all his heart
When his hurts say he can.
He has a heart for God, we see;
It’s plain to everyone,
But those who know him also know
He’s hurting for someone.
He longs for her approval,
Her appreciation too.
Why can’t she give agape love?
It’s the godly thing to do.
It may not ever happen,
Beyond her abilities.
His Father tells him, “That’s My love.
Son, please come to me.
“I know that you’ve been hurt a lot;
It wasn’t really right.
Just give it all to me, my son.
I’ll take it all tonight.
“You mustn’t hold on to one piece,
Or it won’t go away.
Forgive her, give up all the blame.
Take back your life today.
“The hurting child suffered enough.
Don’t let it go on more.
I have great plans for you, my son.
They’re too good to ignore.
“Let’s sit down now and talk, my son.
I have so much to tell.
By the time you stop to sleep
You should be getting well.
“I know that you don’t always
Understand my plans for you;
And you don’t know why things may
Just the way they do.
“But be assured my plans for you
Are perfect for your life.
My special gift to help you through
Is your unusual wife.
“She may seem like a handful,
Too busy, just not right,
But if you treat her like I say
She could be your delight.
“Her disagreements and standing up
For what she thinks is true
Are differences, not disrespect.
She is my gift to you.
“The gifts I give are what you need,
So try to understand;
Differences aren’t really bad.
I created them in man.
“Although her words may seem to cause
The pain you feel inside.
The pain’s been there a long time now;
The devil’s told you lies.
“My other Son, you know the one,
Was treated badly too.
His wounds will help you heal your
He’s all you need. I love you.”
Robin Young Goza, 6-28-01, rev. 7-31-08
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