He just wanted his water
that was all.
He was thirsty
His water was in the car
No one was looking
No one was around to ask
So he took the initiative
And went to the car
Whether his thirst was ever quenched
I do not know
What I do know is that this
same child was rushed
To the ER after
reaching the car
on this sweltering hot
almost 100 degree day in summer.
He walks in the light of Christ now
His thirst is quenched now
He is waiting for his parents now.
The funeral was a
Procession of weeds
Not flowers
The parents asked the kids in the neighborhood
To honor the memory of their son
By bringing to them a bouquet of weed
As he had once done
Never again would his own
Hand reach up to present them
The most beautiful
Handful of
Crushed weeds known to man.
Never again.
YOU ARE READING
Never Catch Me
PoetryA collection of poems about death. WARNING: contains death. #24 in poetry 9/25/15
