once there was a boy
he was shy
he was scare
of everyone
he even flinch if you raise your voice
he even flinch if you act to hit him
he always come in with bruises on his body
he never complains when others pick on him
he just took it with his head slightly down
with a sad smile on his face
as if he even agreed to this abuse
he very good at hiding things
he very good at his lies too
when you ask him about the bruises
he just say a very well made up lie, and you believe it
when you ask him who doing this to him
all he will do...
he will smile
and say "it's a secret
he will never tell, he will kept his secret to the grave
there was nothing we could do
all of his lies, we believe
because we don't want to see it
we don't want to see his pain
we don't want to see his sadness
we don't want to see his anger
we don't want to see his hatred
a few years later
something on the news come up
there was a little boy
I instantly reconged him
on the news, it was a picture of him
they were saying he was brutally been beaten to death
his mother is nowhere to be found
he was also been stab repeated
this poor little boy have been to hell and back
hope his mother roted in hell
I stood still in shock
then I turn off the t.v.
Then I just broke down and cried
I should have done more
all around, all who have know this boy
they all strat and weep all thinking the same thing
why couldn't I done more to help him
that very day, at the school
all the children, teachers who've know him
we were told, the young boy who have gone to this school
he have been abused for years, by his family, and he have pass away from it
may God rest his poor little soul
he ask us how many of us knew about it
none raise their hands, we are to amoused of ourselves
he ask us how many of us suspect it was happen
none raise their hands, we are to amoused of ourselves
then he ask us, why didn't we try to stop it sooner
we all sat, and look down at the floor, none of us could look into his eyes
with that said he left the school for good
we all sat, looking sad, grieving for the young boy's life
we all went to his funnel
we all help raised money for it
and many more have show up to pay respect to the young, brave little boy
then we all left, with a heavy heart
years later down the road
I still teach, at the same school
I still visited the little boy's grave
on his gravestone it said...
�¢ï¿½ï¿½Dear God, Deliverance me from the home I called Hell.�¢ï¿½ï¿½
it also said...
�¢ï¿½ï¿½Here lies a very brave, young boy. May his soul rest in peace.�¢ï¿½ï¿½
after I watch that news clip years ago
I have learn my lesson
yes I have blame myself for his death
but now, I am doing so much more
I watch the children closer now, any I think have been abused I report it in
also talk about child abuse, and how we should try to stop it
I have been doing my part for years now
I wish I have done it for that brave, little boy
note: I got this idea from reading A Child called It by Dave Peters(?). If you think someone may be abused please tell someone about it, as soon as you can. You may never know that person's life may be in danger.
