A Little Boy Called, William
A little boy called William was weeping with sad words echoing,
it was my turn answering calls at a Kids Hotline this evening;
and as I listened to William my heart was breaking,
he was only eight years old and he was really suffering.
William was whispering into the phone his sad words echoing,
he told me kids said mean things that felt like whips lashing;
and his parents said he was worthless, stupid, and not worth living,
he was talking to me while an arms he was cutting.
William was whispering and weeping with sad words echoing,
he told me that he was thinking to end all the pain by hanging;
in a panic, I tried to keep him talking while the police I was calling,
then, the phone went dead and I was left blinking- my soul chilling.
The police called me- William was safe, now, I was weeping.
______________________________
April 7, 2016 (Edit)
Poetry/Monorhyme/A Little Boy called, William
Copyright Protected, ID 16-1105-924-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Submitted to Standard Contest 163
sponsor, Brian Strand
First Place
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2019
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