Restoring Innocence Poem by Jon Ojala

It happened decades ago, when he was seven years old.
He worshiped his parents, who in turn
adored him, and did everything they could
to make his life wonderful and safe.
Aunts, Uncles, Cousins, friends, church, toys and games,
parties, trips to the zoo, the park, picnics, the Circus.
Everything a young child could want, so to be happy. And he was.
He even went to Camp that summer,
a beautiful place in the woods at the edge of a large lake.
He slept in a tent with five other boys and their counselor, Ben.
Together they went swimming, sailing, worked arts and crafts,
went canoeing, built campfires, sang songs, all the camp activities.
Then one afternoon Ben called him into the tent, alone.
He was pushed face down onto the floor,
Ben jumped on top of him, pulled down his pants.
He didn't know what was happening,
only that it was wrong and it hurt terribly.
After it was over, when the crying slowed, Ben whispered that,
if he every told anyone what had happened,
Ben would find him, and hurt him even more.
The happiness went out of his life that day.
He returned home quiet, sullen, changed forever.
Fear had entered his life;
he became afraid of the dark,
he became afraid of being alone,
he became afraid of friendship,
he became afraid of people.
He kept his word, he never told.
His parents never understood the change.
As the years passed, the memory of that day softened,
yet it never really left him.
He made several attempts at friendship but
let few inside the wall he had built around his heart.,
eventually pushing away even those few.
He longed for true friendship,
but couldn't allow himself the luxury of trust.
He pretended to believe it wasn't his fault.
The need for safety was overpowering, unrelenting.
He gradually accepted his life, as that of an observer.
Because that was safe.

He kept his word, he never told.

© ® 2009 Jon Ojala