A young boy.
a once-upon-a-time innocent
whose fragile life has been shattered
into pieces of broken glass
by rocks of punishment and cruel words,
wounding the soft places in his heart;
love a question mark
of unanswered dreams and hopes.
A young boy
like a wounded animal
snarls and rails
against the unrelenting cruelty
and injustice of his world;
who only knows to push
when he is pushed,
and whose rage hovers
like an oil slick on water,
ready to ignite.
A young boy
stripped bare of all tenderness
by the harsh winds of antipathy,
slowly, relentlessly hardens
into a lump of petrified wood
in a hostile and barren desert
devoid of love,
Who will weep for this boy,
mourn the loss of his innocence and dreams?
Who will heal this boy,
salve his wounded soul,
listen to his pain, anoint his hurts?
Who will pray for this boy,
this lost and terrified child,
struggling to survive and
find meaning in this cruel joke of life?
Who will love this boy,
this child of stone, cold and alone?
Who will hold him close
until his rage dissolves,
and his hardened heart is once again soft?
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