His Last Vestige of Virginity…
Raped at age eleven,
His last vestige of childhood virginity,
Taken and used starting at age seven,
Wishes he were able to go to heaven,
His name a beautiful Devon…
He started life in a family of love,
Mom and dad and sisters and brother,
All killed in a terrible accident,
Except this poor little boy,
Yes, at age seven…
Bounced around from family to foster,
Homes with love, but too many to feed,
Starved by one, beaten by another,
This poor little boy knew nothing,
He thought he did wrong, no more love of a mother…
Given an aspirin at age seven,
Supposedly for a cold,
He slept and awoke surrounded by bodies,
All naked and writhing, adults forcing him to perform,
As far as he was concerned, this was the norm…
Too survive he became the best,
He could do no less,
If he did, he was beaten into submission,
His life became an adult pleasing sexual mission,
His age and size prevented his protest…
He grew, yes to be eleven,
By then he was quite active,
The best clothing, the best food,
He was traded and sold throughout the world…
At eleven they thought him to be of puberty age,
They felt it time to introduce him to something new to engage,
In his own apartment on the eleventh floor,
He was held down and taped to the “bed behind the door,”
Fearing for his life, the pain unbearable,
He did allow these men of various races and age,
To have their way, he learned he could do no more…
The next morning, he awoke with blood and pain,
The men in the next room, laughing and ready to begin again, it was plain,
Into his closet he went, loaded the shotgun he had stolen,
Opened the door, shot them all dead,
Walked to the balcony, sat on the edge and shot himself off,
He was dead before he hit the ground,
But he made sure he would be, either with the shotgun round,
Or the sudden stop when the ground he did splatter…
A nude, raped and beaten eleven year old,
Taken when he was but a seven year old,
Four years of torture and pain,
In his life he did never to others complain,
In his death, he did to the world explain…
© ed ~ 1/7/05
Life sucks my friend!!
Love Tinka
Reg.
Regis
there are lessons to be learned from all this mad-ness the real question is will we ever get it
life is filled with love and hate
it is filled with seemingly unbearable pain and ultimate happiness
and we have to have that faith that there are reasons and question alike solutions but are we willing?
sad and hurtful....almost unbelieveable
(((HGUS))) and much love, your friend in tx., karen lynn. :( >tears <
Take care,
Sherry
But, I believe your right; this type of child torture and molestation has been going on forever, and it hasn't stopped yet. Maybe more need to write and publicize these tragic stores, and speak out against this abuse on behalf of these child victims, like you have so powerfully done here.