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Fri 28 Feb, 2003 07:40 pm
The Boy I Didn't Know
Some always laughed a little, when he went by.
Not always, but there's times when he would cry.
It was the faltering gait, I think- plain slow!
Still, it seemed he had a body set to go!
Too, the hair that waved- (at each other's what I mean).
To tell the truth, he didn't look that clean.
There was no smell
at least none I could scent,
(But I'm not the kind to gossip on a gent.)
I saw him with a red rag at his face- and knew
That kerchief hid his mis'ry with the place.
We rode out on a chartered bus, you see;
To a park that had a big, ol' saved up tree.
We, most, were running up the trails and round,
While he just arched to keep from falling down.
His fingers hurt, I think- the way he clutched.
First one he rubbed, and then the other touched.
That far-gone look that lingered in his eyes.
Gave rise to guessing where his memory lies.
A shake and now, or there he'd do a twitch
It looked SO LIKE a beggar with the ?'itch'.
I'd like'd to help him bend, that day, and scrape
Against whatever demons made him ache.
From ?'hind my trifling' wishes comes a frightful ?'mewl'
Convincing him, if guessing- he'd met another fool.
Stumbling on what words would let him know I would
Be like a friend, so help me. If I only could.
While we stand there ?'reaching' for what other's got
The poor thing stumbled backward, and pants fell on that spot.
He clung to me - with such a GLARE on his scared brow.
And I was Glaring worse than him, to what I'm seeing now.
His legs bound round with rusting chains, which had been cut apart;
And scars and blue marks up and down, like ugly toilet ?'art'.
The shirt ran up his back when stooped, I could see the same.
I wrenched my neck to turn my head, away from all his shame.
Now, ever' sneer he ever took- I want it took away.
I wont forget how PAIN did look, until my dyin' day!
I liked it, thanks jackie.
Thank you Jackie. I would dearly love to know the story behind the heartbreaking poem.
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