Ive reached a point in my life
where i always seem confused
i want to be a better man
but cant forget the boy abused
the little boy in me
who grew up with the belt
hate and pain were common place
but love was barely ever felt
mom was ignorant of it all
and didnt see a need to change
she could have stopped it sooner
but i love her all the same
it made me who i am today
even though i dont know who that is
i sometimes say my pains a burden
but i really see it as a gift
because the pain i felt i keep locked up
so no one has to feel it harder
i gave my life for yours
but dont confuse me for a martyr
i did it all with selfish intent
and learned to turn my pain to pleasure
so now i can revist the memories
and dig up those burried treasures
of a boy abused
this man confused
soul alone
and a heart theats used
then toss them aside to see the truth
burried in my chest
that the scars upon my psyche
make me a cut above the rest
that even though im lost
misguided and cunfused
i can always borrow strength
from the boy in me abused
ive learned that love and acceptance
a man can surely use to measure
his worth in life but neglect and pain
are often burried treasures