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The boy and his monster


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There once was a man. There once was an I. There once was a soul filled to the brim. There once was a lover never seen again. There once was a dance. There once was a kiss. There once was a person, I shall forever miss. There once was a sunrise which lasted until sunset. There once was a boy. A young little man. Who loved this world before the pain. When he smiled it was truth. No hidden meaning. When he cried he let the world know how he felt. When he was hurt there was no shame. When he couldn’t keep up, he became a man. He learned of pain. He learned of shame. He learned of love and embarrassment. He learned of conditionality. He learned to be angry. Very angry. He learned to be so very angry. Poor boy. He was so angry at the world. He thought he had every right. He hadn’t learned of love yet. He hadn’t learned of compassion. The poor boy only knew of pain, anger, resentment, yelling, fighting, screaming and **** the world. The world was out to get him. He knew it too.

There once was a man. There once was an I. There once was a boy that wanted to cry. He withheld his tears and replaced them with fists. There once was a boy who felt he had been missed. There once was a friend. There once was a love. There once was a puppy that became a dog. That dog and many others like it left this world. The pain was sharp. The loss was real. Now there’s a boy who didn’t know how to feel. The anger grew. It became a monster. There once was a boy. Now there was a monster. Anger feeds itself and grooms itself and loves itself and only itself. Anger is a narcissistic parasite. The monster was driven into darkness. Hiding behind his veil of shame. The boy would once and a while peak out to see if he could return again. Each time he tried, the pain was sharp, and back into the monster the boy would return. The pain was sharp. It cut deep to the soul. It cut so deep. It bled so long.

There once was a boy. There once was an I. Now there’s a Monster forbidden to cry. Anger mutates and transforms everything it touches. It burns. It burns. It turns into rage and burns everything to the ground. Burn. It burns, it burns it burns. Fire burns everything it touches just like rage. It spreads and spreads and spreads. Man does it spread. Boy, I’m sorry you spread it. It’s not your fault you were lit aflame. The monster wasn’t you. The monster was a shield from the flame not a person to blame.

There once was a boy. There once was a monster. Forgiveness is the only escape. There once was a boy who forgave a monster for trying to protect him. The monster then spoke, “Boy, you didn’t make me it wasn’t your fault.” The boy learned to cry and turned into a man. A man who forgives all those who trespass against him for he knows of the monster. The monster within. The monster that comes when anger lights fire and burns the boy down. And he hopes that one day that boy too will see his monster and forgive himself.


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