Jerry
He was handsome, suave, and charming.
Girls adored him as a princely attraction.
His appeal was such as to be disarming.
Faculty viewed him as a major distraction.
Jerry and I were inseparable in high school.
We did the things boys did in those days:
Graded girls, cruised Main, acted “cool.”
And wore “threads” of the current craze.
Post high-school, I hardly knew my old friend.
He spent nights in bars drinking himself gray.
I feared our friendship was coming to an end.
I asked him why he was throwing his life away.
His answer should have handed me a key.
Even to this far-distant day I grieve it did not.
He stared me down and said, “Wait and see.”
I never saw him again, though I looked a lot.
Years later hunters found Jerry’s remains.
Investigation showed he took his own life.
Why didn’t I see he needed help to change?
Why didn’t I grasp the extent of his strife?
Perhaps you know someone like Jerry—
A person who hints he or she feels lost.
That’s your call to act, your call to be wary.
Lest your conscience pay a never-ending cost.
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