Lee

Dear little boy

I met you in 2009 while I was working in the Northern Territory. I looked into the eyes of too many small children who were victims of child sexual abuse.

I gradually spiralled into a never before visited abyss in my mind. In that abyss, memories I thought had no power almost destroyed me. I could see all your eyes inside mine and I could not escape.

As I descended into a dark nightmare, my daughter told me she too had been sexually abused. Her eyes joined ours.

You were taken away for a crime you were too young to commit. Did you? Are you OK? For me, your eyes represent all the eyes.

I still have the picture of the red car you drew for me. I never got to say goodbye. I hope you read this poem and know that I am sorry. Everyone knew. We all did nothing. I am sorry I did nothing. We were all victims. I hope you are a survivor too.

A red car

I remember your eyes.
You were seven, you were small.
I was big, I was old.

I looked into your eyes.
“Would you do a drawing for me”, I asked.

You looked into my eyes.
You gave me a picture.

I could see pain in your eyes.
I knew you were hurting.

When your eyes were gone.
I could still see them.

I will never forget you.
Your eyes looked like mine.