Families in Recovery

Crossroads of My Soul, by Ricky Eakins

I stand a man before the crossroads of my soul.
Many ways I see to travel, but which way to go?
I just don't know.
If only I knew which way my spirit flew,
Then maybe I'd have a chance
To catch that magical dance,
Which in turn unlocks of all the clocks
Of whose time has past,
And where nothing lasts,
Thus, allowing me a slave to be free
Of my grave.
So, I can grow,
And let my emotions show
The way I should travel
Through the crossroads of my soul.

Ricky Eakins was a homeless man who struggled with physical and emotional abuse as a child, and alcoholism as an adult. He recently died in a warehouse fire in South Bend, IN.

From his cousin, who held a memorial service: “I wanted people to know that Ricky wasn't a bad person. He wasn't an eyesore on society, or a burden." About Ricky's mother: “I'm not sure what would set her off, but she would get him down on the ground. She would kick him. Kick him in the head. Kick him anywhere she could kick him. He had broken bones bruised kidneys, but I think the thing that stands out in my mind is it wasn't the physical abuse. It was the things she was saying to him. She was saying I wish you were dead. I wish you were never born. I hate you.”

Jackie says that hate lead Ricky to drink. His alcoholism lead him to homelessness. The poem was found after Ricky's death.

This is part of Family in Recovery's OneStory Project.

Source: wndu.com