In the meantime, enjoy the responses I have made to other prompts.

Monday, July 27, 2015

The Boy with Blinders On

I often saw him walking through the prairie all alone,
His fists both filled with daisies, their recipient unknown.
Some days he might be skipping through the grasses thin and tall.
I’d also catch him dancing though no music played at all.
If someone else might come around or happened in his way,
He wouldn’t miss a skip or step or interrupt his play.

The most peculiar part of this was what I knew to be:
He’d an alcoholic father and a mother absentee.

I also saw him when in school; he loved the kitchen toys.
He always was the last one picked when playing games with boys.
Though based alone on memory, at any time or place –
I never saw the boy without a smile upon his face.
He sang and acted out our songs as though he were a star.
His acting skills were better than the rest of us by far!

As I reflect on grade school times, what baffles me the most:
The other kids would taunt the boy and then would dare to boast.

I only heard what happened next; we’d gone our separate ways.
The boy, now man, did make-up for some musicals and plays.
He met a man, an older one; on him he would depend.
He nursed this mate when illness struck, but illness would not bend.
The rumor was while treating him, he’d gotten AIDS as well.
The boy, now man, lived ten more years then tolled the final bell.

I’m still perplexed by how this boy, turned man, could only find
The positives life gave to him, then leave the rest behind.

Note: the boy was my half-brother, Mark, and when I saw the picture of the blonde child in the field, it reminded me of him. The poem is true, at least as far as what I remember.

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