Buffalohair COAT OF ARMS

PostPosted: Thu Jun 14, 2007 9:48 am    Post subject:

It’s kind of funny in a way as I view the armor I wear in life. Very imposing and lethal if placed in a situation. But no matter how intimidating the armor may be. In the center of this Dreadnaught resides a little boy. And I feel bad for the kid to. Guess that’s why I build such a fortress to protect him. Poor little guy, all he wanted to do was play with other kids and enjoy life. But such is life and happiness was just not in the cards for the little fella.

He was doing ok till about 7 years of age. Then for reasons beyond comprehension the kid moved away from his cousin’s aunts and uncles. It was a weird place since there were not dirt roads or animals to speak of either. Even the plants seemed different. Though they looked pretty the plants were still sad somehow.

The new place was filled with people. But they were not very friendly. The little boy and his mommy would walk around town only to have people point at them. Some people would call them names; others would simply throw trash at them. This made the little boy very sad since his mommy would cry all the time. Then it got worse, much worse.

One day when the little boy came home to find a new man in mommy’s life. He was a big man with giant hands. He looked happy at first but then he started hitting the little boy and his mommy. This made the little boy very sad since he no longer had a safe place to go. It would appear the kids at the new school he attended did not like kids who were not the same color. The little boy was beaten for this lacking in judgment. And well, that’s when I came into the picture.

Yup, I started protecting the little guy back when he was a poop butt. It started with one layer at first. He was ok for a while then came the problems at home with his step dad. I mean to tell you, this Englishman beat the holy schnikes out of him almost everyday. The dude used to punch out him and his mom with these giant hands. The kid and mom would go flying.

I could not stop the beatings, but I did manage to keep the kid numb while he was beaten. There was nothing I could do for his mom though. And the poor kid saw lots of horror. Eventually, I managed to place layer after layer of protection on the kid. I became his protector and helped him cope with the violence that became a part of his life.

Well the kid grew up and I was still by his side. I shielded him from many things throughout his life. I’ve become a part of him now and he will never loose me. I will stick to him like glue because he needs me. There is only one slight flaw in this armor though. It’s called Post Traumatic Stress Disorder but hey, it’s better to be safe than sorry. So I over react at times and expect the worse. At least I’m keeping the kid protected.
I’ve become the armor it seems and I wonder if the little boy will ever enjoy life outside.

Creativity is the byproduct of a fertile mind

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