Lone
Sitting on the park bench
The boy watches geese
Ever so carefully
As though he wants
To be one of them.
Is one of them
At least for the moment.
They swim across the pond
Happily.
Not a care in the world
And with friends.
The boy turns away.
Starts crying
Uncontrollably.
The wind jabs me in my gut.
I admit.
I am still that boy.
Copyright © Jacob Cra | Year Posted 2013
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