POEM 6: How to Destroy a Child

You give a child a pencil

He writes you a love letter

Childish doodles, first-grade words

Curves, bent lines, but a charcoal heart

Then you tell the child to smile

Supernumerary teeth out, thin hairlines

Over the swollen corners of his eyes

Tears dried, hope, arms wide open

Then you tell the child nice words

Lovely treasure box, photo albums

Schema filling up like shopping carts

Dream grows like hail aloft supercells

Then you tell the child he's a way with words

Then detour, diverge, turn away, slay

He walks, you whisper, he saunters, you slander

Shirt splashed with colors, back blood-ridden

Then you share the news, the child stands

Pines, pins, red yarn, pictures, plastic toy cars

Transform to metal tanks and with pencils,

he draws wooden spears, sharp, napalm

Then you study fields of blown out windows

Adjectives in paper, labels, all lost in translation

You read, you read, you read you

Read

Then you knock on his fortress, tears falling, too

Tanks halt, spears held in trembling fingers

Ceasefire, you hug him, then not whisper "sorry"

Grey tears, hopeless, fists clenched

You gave the child a pencil

But the child wrote in red ink, as you did

Words, inadmitted, curved, bent, purple

But a charcoal heart

Written 3rd January, 2022.

Poem copyright © 2022 by Peter Ryuken B. Hermosura, “How to Destroy a Child”

Author's Annotations

This poem hails from a very personal experience I had with child aggression. When I was a child, I was once bullied behind my back by someone I respected so dearly. After knowing this, I retaliated aggressively, not knowing the consequences of my actions. As a child, I was hurt and I wanted to find justice for myself... except I did it in the worst way possible.

This poem revolves around my terrifying and life-changing experience with child aggression, looking back at how it all happened, and as a catharsis of all of my regrets and redemptions from that traumatic event.