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He did not make it


A slight rain
Came over the bus stop
As the little boy
With the balloon
Stands with you
He feels disjointed
You speak to him
Knowing his pain
The bus stop is clear
The road busy
And you stand for
Just a moment
Telling him
About your days
And you turn away
Realising the bus
Has arrived
And you talk
Slowly into your iphone
Not realising
The boy did not get on
And all you hear from
The distance
Is, "I'm sorry"
And the balloon flying upwards

 

This poem is dedicated to a 19 year old survivor, whom chose a different path to me in life.

 May he rest in peace.

Dany 1993 to August 2012

 

 

 

 
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