Poem

This is a poem which I found written on a piece of paper in the middle of some junk that I was clearing today. It is a very beautiful poem and if my memory is correct, then I had found this on fictionpress.com. I do not remember the name of the poet though. I didn't want to forget the poem so I thought I'd immortalise it on my blog. Remember, this is not written by me so all credit and props go to the unknown poet.

 

He stood among his friends from school,
He joined their childhood games
Laughing as they played kickball
And when they called poor Sarah names.
Sarah was unlike the rest;
She was slow and not as smart,
And it would seem to all his friends
She was born without a heart.
And so he gladly joined their fun
Of making Sarah cry.
But somewhere deep within his heart
He never knew just why.
For he could hear his mother's voice
Her lessons of right and wrong
laying over and over inside his head
Just like a favourite song.
"Treat others with respect, son
The way you'd want them treating you.
And remember, when you hurt others
Someday, someone might hurt you".

He knew his mother wouldn't understand
The purpose of their game.
Of teasing Sarah, who made them laugh
As her own tears fell like rain.
The funny faces that she made
And they way she'd stomp her feet
Whenever they mocked the way she walked
Or the stutter when she'd speak.
To him she must deserve it
Because she never tried to hide.
And if she truly wanted to be left alone,
Then she should stay inside.

But everyday she'd do the same:
She'd come outside to play
And stand there, tears upon her face,
Too upset to run away.
The game would soon be over
As tears dropped from her eyes
For the purpose of their fun
Was making Sarah cry.

It was nearly two months he hadn't seen his friends
He was certain they all must wonder
What happened and where he'd been
So he felt a little nervous
As he limped his way to class
He hoped no one would notice,
He prayed no one would ask
About that awful day:
The day his bike met with a car
Leaving him with a dreadful limp
And a jagged-looking scar.
So he held his breath a little
As he hobbled into the room,
Where inside he saw a "Welcome Back" banner
And lots of red balloons.

He felt a smile cross his face
As his friends smiled, too
And he couldn't wait to play outside-
His favourite thing to do.
So the second that he stepped outdoors
And saw his friends all waiting there,
He expected a few pats on the back
Instead, they all stood back and stared.
He felt his face grow hotter
As he limped to join their side
To play a game of kickball
And of making Sarah cry.
An awkward smile crossed his face
When he heard the words, "Hey Freak!"
Where'd you get that ugly mask?"
He turned, expecting Sarah,
But Sarah couldn't be seen.

It was the scar upon his face
That caused such words so mean.
He joined in their laughter,
Trying hard not to give in
To the awful urge inside to cry
Or the quivering of his chin.
They are only teasing
He made himself believe
They are still my friends;
They'd never think of hurting me,
About the scar and then his limp.
And he knew if he shed a single tear
They'd label him a wimp.
And so the hurtful words went on
But he knew without a doubt
The game would never end,
Until they made him cry.
And just when a tear had formed
He heard a voice speak out from behind.
"Leave him alone, you bullies
Cause he's a friend of mine".

He turned to see poor Sarah,
Determination to face
Sticking up for one of her own tormentors
And willing to take his place.
And when his friends did just that,
Trying their best to make Sarah cry,
This time he didn't join in,
And at last understood exactly why.
"Treat others with respect, son
The way you'd want them treating you.
And remember, when youhurt others
Someday, someone might hurt you".

It took a lot of courage
But he knew he must be strong
For at last he saw a difference
Between right and wrong.
And Sarah didn't seem so weird
Through his understanding eyes
Now he knew he'd never play the game again
Of making Sarah cry.
It took several days of teasing
And razzing from his friends
But when they saw his strength,
They chose to be like him.

And now on the playground,
A group of friends meet everyday
For a game of kickball and laughter
And teaching their new friend, Sarah, how to play!

                                                       ---Anonymous.

 

P.S.: Beautiful, isn't it?