"From There to Here" by Steven D. Smith

Sometimes I wonder why life has been so cruel.

It’s like a cosmic joke about a sadistic never-ending school.

At 6 months old my mom and dad divorce.

I was too young so it was not my fault of course.


So we moved to Nana and Papa’s in Washington.

I guess that’s as far as my mom thought she could run.

With Papa and his camper I visited every state before I was 4.

I don’t remember much but it was fun that’s for sure.


Then Papa went on a trip alone. It was a heart attack they said.

I didn’t know what that was. I cried myself to sleep in my bed.

Mom went to Disneyland® alone. She was gone most of the time.

I can remember my Nana telling here it was a crime.


We should have been taken along.

But I didn’t know if it was right or wrong.

Nana was good. We often slipped and called her mom.

She always had that way to keep a young boy calm.


At 5 years old the molestation came.

I told Nana. She made me apologize in shame.

What a wicked lie for you to tell.

If I kept it up, I would surely go to hell.


The abuse went on for 11 painful years.

But I never told again. I held on to my tears.

A new stepdad came at around that time,

And his dislike for me had no reason or rhyme.


His mental and verbal abuse along with abuse untold

Went on and on and became so old.

My hate for him was a childish answer to an uncontrollable fate.

I was only 5 1/2, and by then it was too late.


Grade school was a sham and didoes were lame.

My life was a mess when Jr. High came.

I was small and again came the abuse.

It was already there it just added to the misuse.


Garbage cans for lunch, a swirly in the bathroom, and beatings in the hall.

And of course the teachers seemed to miss it all.

Then I found weed; A good friend indeed.

My usage became known; trouble at home.


My grades declined. But I was not alone;

More trouble at home.

Around 15 I found LSD and the world opened up to me.

It gave me insight, and I felt I had grown; more trouble at home.


Stepdad said I was stupid. I just liked being in trouble.

My life would always be a pile of rubble.

He called me Numb-nuts for a year.

I had no way to stop it so I just lived in fear.


At 16 I met the love of my life. She was 28. When I

Realized she’d left with my son, I knew pain was my fate.

Then at 18, there was trouble with the law; more trouble at home.

I got 5 years of probation and to Vermont I was thrown.


My real dad was there and I thought, “oh boy,

A real father and maybe some joy.

But that abuse reared its ugly head again,

And I wondered if the misuse had just always been.


I moved out and thought “oh good a new start”.

But two divorces later and codeine was my heart.

I remember lying to doctors, searching and aching, and that feeling of finally it’s here.

Do some right now or it might disappear.


Oh, that feeling of numbness and no pain, that antidepressant euphoric state.

I hid there. I lived there. It had become my mate.

I hid if well. Nobody knew,

Except the dealers and the chosen few.


It lasted for 10 long, painful, and arduous years.

Finally I met someone who could dismiss my fears.

Someone who could ease my pain. Someone who

Could get through to my stoned addled brain.


I met my beautiful loving helpmate; my wife.

She was the sweet wonderful woman that saved my life.

It took her a year and then that was it.

There was no choice. She just said quit.


I had finally found something I loved more than my high.

She weaned me off slowly until the day I was dry.

We lived in bliss, nine children in the mix.

There were really good times and nothing to fix.


Then trouble with the law and it all came apart.

They even locked up my wife the other half of my heart.

Our lives had been a wonderful dream.

But things are not always as they seem.


I had learned from Buddhism to suffer in bliss.

Even with all the people I would miss.

Buddhism had become my light,

So I knew everything would be alright.


The good comes with the bad.

Some forget the good and just stay sad

They forget that nothing remains the same.

They live sadness and their badge is pain.


It may sound cliché or lame.

But as for me, I’ll keep my joy.

There may be reasons to complain.

As for me I’ll retain that innocent little boy.

Gary MillerComment