There was a boy with marks on his arms
And others only unseen
He was small and defenseless, as most children are,
And his senses were not sharply keen
He had dark hair and dark eyes
And an even darker past
For this young boy with a big heart
Had to face his fathers wrath
He was knocked down and beaten
He was scolded and such
The boy was pushed around and tormented
But still there was one thing he loved very much
He would sit, watching the small creatures
And become mesmerized by their calming effect
He would slip into a world that he only inhabited
And forget about his father and the endless neglect
Today this boy is no longer defenseless
He is no longer a boy but a man
Now he’s strong and courageous
He easily hides the scars of brutality on his hands
I know this because he has told me
Of the abuse and of his escape
I know this because I can see the discontentment
In his all-seeing-eyes and on his face
I, myself, can’t make him happy
No one could if they wished
His childhood friend is the only one that can soothe him
And that would be his fish…