Last Wednesday many of you touched me with your response to my poem, "The Forgiveness Rainbow." It's inspiration was a poem letter that my oldest son wrote to me. There is more I would like you to know.

I rarely let life get me down. Not anymore, that is. After I got this letter I simple couldn't function. The tears fell down for hours. I tried to go to work the next day. I made it all the way to the school parking lot before I called the office and told them I simply couldn't come in.

I thought I was over all those years of abuse. But his poem was so intense, so graphic and so full of love for me that I couldn't stop my emotions. He didn't blame me. He questioned it, yes, but he didn't blame me.

He was only about eight years old back then. I wasn't ready to escape the vicious cycle of abuse we were in. It still took me another few years to leave.

The damage I did to my children is unforgivable. All three of my children are survivors. I will tell you more about them later.

My son has been watching me grow over the years. He encourages me to write. He believes it will help others. He asked me to share his poem with you. He told me he wrote it in the style that I sometimes write. I do ask this. Don't edit his writing. The Pauses, the spaces are his not mine and they are such a part of the eight year old world he remembers. The bad language is how he feels about it now. He is 31. He is a professional UFC fighter. He is famous and you can watch his fights on television.

This is the hardest truth I have ever told.

With the written permission of Nik Lentz.
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"What a Wonderful day"
By
Nik Lentz

I once stood outside a gas
Station with my mother....
Tears in her eyes....
. ...as she scratched through
lottery ticket after lottery ticket

A loser
A loser
A loser
A loser

And yet again...

another fuckin' loss.

Her finger tips bright silver,
Her soul crushed,
We stood in silence.

For being 5 foot nothin' and a
little heavy for her size,
my mother had one of the
best chins in the "game"

....and tonight, it would be
tested.

Puzzled, but in no hurry to get
back to our broken and
violent home.

We stood
Together...

Why not just buy beer like
she was supposed to?
Why waste money on an
insignificant chance at riches?
Why do we live in a
Dangerous place, with no
Money, no food, no time, no
Fun ...

....a horrid waste of existing
in a fear based duplex'ial
nightmare of limited space
and a fear so deep it literally
shook our bones and rotted
our teeth.

Nope...
Silence was definitely what
the doctor ordered

So we waited,
backs against the hot concrete,
Both thinking of what our
"duty" meant to us.

Could we abandon our post tonight!?

Let the hammer of Budweiser
swing past our heads and
land

...just ONE time...on
someone else.

Could we for one day be a
family that didn't run on
alcohol and broken dreams...

Could we go home and have
a real American dinner...

Instead of
"Long noodle"
"Short noodle"
"Brick noodle"
"Crunchy noodle"

Or

Whatever the fuck name you
can make up,
to pretend that you're not
eating the same pack
of Roman Noodle soup
you ate the day before,
and the day before that,
and the months before that
one!?

Could we realize in this
moment...
That overtime, the Tennessee
Butcher would get us all!!
...and nothing we did, no
bomb we fell on or beating
we took
Would lessen the teachings
of sadistic pleasure that we all learned in the secret
society that was our family?

We could!

but we didn't...

and in that moment,
next to a gas station,
in the hot sun of a Texas
summer,

We looked into each other's
eyes, reached out our hands,
interlocked our fingers, put a
smile on our faces ...

and started our slow death march
towards the American
dream.

And I shit you not.....

we sang "Hakuna Matata."
________________________________________________________________________________
Nik, Mandy and Matthew are amazing success stories.

Nik, a professional Athlete ( and maybe someday a writer)
Mandy, a Lawyer
Matthew, a mechanic for BMW

We never went back after we left. We only went forward.