A gift for abuse is one reason children acquiesce; theyMUST be warned, beware of TROJANS "BARING" gifts.
He held it in his bigger hand than mine
Closed tight around it
So I couldn't see
How large, how small
It might have been.
He held it in his stronger hand than mine,
A thong around it
Which was hard to see
How large, how small
It might have been.
He put the blinders on me
Leaving world and universe a blur
With just a voice,
A son of God,
He said,
Speaking softly
Directing me
My puppet moves
Enacting all his scenes
Each line on cue
All that he planned to do.
He promised me a lollipop,
He said,
And deftly placed
A tasteless morsel
Warm, soft shaft
Against my young
And unsuspecting lips,
Hard-pressing jaws-of-life-like fingertips
In such an awkward way
I had no choice but say
Nothing
With a mouth too full of him to speak.
I wondered what should make that taffy leak.
He didn't say.
He just withdrew as quiet, quick,
As just before he came.
He left those blinders
When he left,
Anonymous,
I never hearing then
Nor knowing now
His name.
My hand still clasped his gift, unique,
He felt compelled to give
Before he left me worn and weak
Before my time to live.
To him it was a playful game
Of growing up, as I recall,
As often that I flick the flame
That long ago began it all.
Poetry by NotaDeadPoet
Read 1271 times
Written on 2006-12-10 at 19:00
Tags Abuse Life
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The Lighter
He held it in his bigger hand than mine
Closed tight around it
So I couldn't see
How large, how small
It might have been.
He held it in his stronger hand than mine,
A thong around it
Which was hard to see
How large, how small
It might have been.
He put the blinders on me
Leaving world and universe a blur
With just a voice,
A son of God,
He said,
Speaking softly
Directing me
My puppet moves
Enacting all his scenes
Each line on cue
All that he planned to do.
He promised me a lollipop,
He said,
And deftly placed
A tasteless morsel
Warm, soft shaft
Against my young
And unsuspecting lips,
Hard-pressing jaws-of-life-like fingertips
In such an awkward way
I had no choice but say
Nothing
With a mouth too full of him to speak.
I wondered what should make that taffy leak.
He didn't say.
He just withdrew as quiet, quick,
As just before he came.
He left those blinders
When he left,
Anonymous,
I never hearing then
Nor knowing now
His name.
My hand still clasped his gift, unique,
He felt compelled to give
Before he left me worn and weak
Before my time to live.
To him it was a playful game
Of growing up, as I recall,
As often that I flick the flame
That long ago began it all.
Poetry by NotaDeadPoet
Read 1271 times
Written on 2006-12-10 at 19:00
Tags Abuse Life
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
