THE SIN of MY SKIN (EXCERP)

BOOK ONE

I didn’t learn to play no ball…I was busy dodging fists and being slammed into walls… My daddy didn’t only sell coke…He kept his control by choking us with his fishing rope
When my Mama was gone and my Daddy couldn’t be found,
I learned real soon about the real world rules
I grabbed my pen and started using my tools…I searched for knowledge like it was soul food

I’d already lost a mother and a son, I felt the intense fear and anguish that came
with it. I desired not to outlive any more children... Especially not my own
.
The children...
So innocent... Too young to know or understand what a horrible cloud was even now hanging over their lives, their world.
I had done what had appeared to be right to me at the moment it was done. I had no idea how my every word, every action, was being scrutinized by so many, so often.
The pain was so very sharp, so real... I felt the tightness in my chest; the lack of oxygen.
An ocean of blood stained my heart, overwhelming my soul.
So much blood... so much red, red, red. So very, very red.
Red blood seeping out in rivulets between the legs of little boys and little girls. Blood from the forced sexual acts and from the self inflicted wounds they provided their little bodies in an attempt to ease the pressure of the pain they carried in their hearts.
Giving myself a mental shake, I forced my mind to slow down... Rest... Continue again tomorrow. Start anew with a new day. Just put one foot ahead of the other.
Was I truly a maverick like others have said? Was I truly fighting a one person war by myself?
I knew this island of Trinidad and Tobago. I knew the children and women of this fair island. I saw in their many faces that they too were weary of the ‘same ole, same ole’.
I knew too, that nothing ventured, nothing gained. How many times had I preached this to my two children?
Yes... Truly life was not a picnic.
And truly too, nights were the worst time to remember. The moans and groans were so much louder at nights. Crying was so much louder in the dark stillness of night...
I prayed silently that eventually my sons would come to understand the lives of the downtrodden and the sexually abused children of the world.
What truly was life when lived without honour? What was I truly fighting for? Was it honourable to remain standing in the battlefield when the rest of the army has retreated?
Yes, I still believed that a man was to be respected for what he did, not for what he said he would do. I still believed that it was imperative that we make a difference in our world for our children’s sake.
Indeed it was the children who really mattered in this whole mess. The children who will be left traumatized with the burden of recovering from this terrible time this devastation has forcible cast on their so very young shoulders.
Yes...
The children...
All those children who were lucky enough to survive this point in history and beyond. These dilemmas of the twenty-first century. They would be stuck with this gaping, open wound we as humankind has placed on them. They’d have to open the sores, ease the pus and other infections, cauterize and bandage this stain we’ve left on them as future leaders and carry on.
The escape of death seemed so much
simpler than the constant torture that living in this condition brought with it. The burden of knowing that there is nothing left that you can humanly do.
Oh, how humbling to realize that I now cry as easily as I breathe. Did all these tears matter to anyone but the children I constantly cried for?

Posted on: March 04, 2007, 05:09:15 pm

Bless Up Family

This is Intended for those who are NOT really Interested in the FULL version in the nest thread. InI know how restless the Idren get at times..

Nuff Love

Sistah Vee

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