I look at the child playing in the sand
Small, blond, and innocent
And I see myself when I was young
Small, blond, and innocent
How could you have been so angry
To strike someone like him – to strike me
What did we do so egregious when we were three, seven, and seventeen
that could only have been fixed by breaking our body and spirit with fists?
How could you hate such innocence
Hate a child who loves unconditionally?
How could you hate us when we were three but expect us to still love you at thirty?
I look at him and I see the good in the world
Hope. Wonder. Love. Trust. Happiness.
I look at him and I see all that I have lost
Lost because of your guilt.
Deaf Poetry 