A Riddle for the Wise, a Poem for the Poor

One of the final writing assignments my son had before he completed residential treatment was to tell about his childhood abuse. He decided to put his words into a poem. This poem is also in Cutting the Soul, but I felt it needed a spotlight of its own.




"It started out as a simple game of truth or dare, but who would've known where it could've gone from there?
With eagerness on the brain and innocence in his heart, a young boy took the first step and played the part.
A role as the victim is what they would say, and the boy blames himself to this very day.
And cutting himself in every which way, he truly believed this made him gay.
If only he knew the weight of his decision and stopped the self-harm at the first incision.
If only he'd objected, refused from the start, then there'd be no play and he'd have no part.
A few seconds, that's all it took, for his life to be changed, rearranged, and shook.
The art of pain he has now perfected, hurting himself was how he projected.
A riddle for the wise, a poem for the poor, his family doesn't recall, but the boy's keeping score.
And now that the deed is done and squared away, the boy will keep on living, day after day.
A new start and a fresh beginning, life isn't a game, but if it were, I'd be winning."

---