Dear you,,,, yes, you,,,,,all of you.
I hope this gets to you in time, and there’s something you can do.
They call me The Boy and back then I used to be considered a blessing.
I’m writing to tell you…no, to remind you how I’ve been progressing.
My mother and sisters love to believe I’m growing up in a patriarchal society,
And all I have to do is be a man, that’s their definition of reality.
My aunt thinks I’m programmed to bottle up my pain and anguish,
To suffer in silent agony, she says, will cure my sister’s languish.
I don’t understand what I did wrong. I’m just a child lost in neglect,
Why can’t even dad see how much my life has become wrecked?
I watch the sun go down hoping you’ll reach out, though you are disinclined.
What in God’s name did I do to warrant being…
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