I Did It My Way
His shabby house sat on my street, and he
was like that run-down house - unwashed; unkempt.
So Barklay, with his slick black hair, would be
our school yard’s crow, one pecked at with contempt.
Another on my street was also jeered.
Poor Janno, homely girl with eyes that crossed.
The birds that mocked declared that she was weird;
though smart, she had a sparrow’s wings less glossed
And vaguely I recall the taunting words
that followed Janno and the gawky crow.
And not among the flock of strutting birds,
I could conceive an inkling of their woe.
Befriending rare birds, I did it my way.
I'd walk them home, for I don't shun a stray!
June 15, 2014
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