I look at the photograph old and decayed,
A symbol of childhood innocents swept away.
By someone who didn't care,
Anything of the pain I'd have to bear.
He didn't even love me,
Now I can't love me.
He robbed me of my self-esteem,
Of my very identity.
What was he thinking what was on his mind?
He must have been blind,
He couldn't or wouldn't see the pain on my face.
A pain that cannot be erased.
It started with one simple touch.
Maybe to him it didn't seem so much.
From there it got worse and worse.
Now for me it is like a curse.
It's been with me all of my life,
It's with me when I'm with my wife.
It's stolen my joy.
It's given me feelings
that question what it means to be a boy.
Now for those who are thinking
how cute that sleeping child is,
Before you ruin the life they'll live.
It may seem like just a curious touch,
And it doesn't mean very much.
You may say, "they'll never know"
But from there it will only grow
Till you possess all that child had.
And leave them nothing but sad.
If you've been touched too,
Before you do it to another
remember what you've been through.
In my final words I wouldn't make a fuss,