A little boy went out to play,
He said to himself, "I'm not afraid,
For today, they will love me."
But instead they leered,
And laughed and jeered,
Just as deep inside
He had feared they would
And he cried, in bitter tears,
"These my peers,
Will never love me!"
He fell asleep,
And awoke in angels' keep.
Amid the flutter of angel wings,
His heart lifted to hear them sing,
And he cried, "Oh, let me stay!
Here is where I want play.
Those children know I'm slow, you see.
They will never, ever, love me!"
A Shepherd Man came by to stand,
In His arms, He carried a lamb.
"I need you to go back,
My child, for those children lack,
The ability to love such as ye.
Their souls will grow,
When they learn to know,
How to love thee."
The boy waved good-bye,
As angels helped him to fly,
Back to the land where his tears
Had wet the sands.
As he awoke, he tried to smile,
And his eyes he dried.
He pushed away his cares
And whispered a prayer,
"Today, may they love me."
At eighty-five, he quietly died,
While his loved ones cried at his side.
He woke in the same angels' keep,
And said to the Shepherd with the sheep,
(This time falling on his knees)
"Today I wouldn't mind going back,
Because, you see,
They finally learned,
To love me!"
He said to himself, "I'm not afraid,
For today, they will love me."
But instead they leered,
And laughed and jeered,
Just as deep inside
He had feared they would
And he cried, in bitter tears,
"These my peers,
Will never love me!"
He fell asleep,
And awoke in angels' keep.
Amid the flutter of angel wings,
His heart lifted to hear them sing,
And he cried, "Oh, let me stay!
Here is where I want play.
Those children know I'm slow, you see.
They will never, ever, love me!"
A Shepherd Man came by to stand,
In His arms, He carried a lamb.
"I need you to go back,
My child, for those children lack,
The ability to love such as ye.
Their souls will grow,
When they learn to know,
How to love thee."
The boy waved good-bye,
As angels helped him to fly,
Back to the land where his tears
Had wet the sands.
As he awoke, he tried to smile,
And his eyes he dried.
He pushed away his cares
And whispered a prayer,
"Today, may they love me."
At eighty-five, he quietly died,
While his loved ones cried at his side.
He woke in the same angels' keep,
And said to the Shepherd with the sheep,
(This time falling on his knees)
"Today I wouldn't mind going back,
Because, you see,
They finally learned,
To love me!"
Published by Mary Naylor confirmed
I was born in Chicago, Illinois in 1933. I grew up in Rhinelander, Wisconsin, a wild and beautiful state, rich in literature and lore. I loved the stories of Paul Bunyon and his ox, Babe. The hoax of t... View profile
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4 Comments
Post a CommentPoignant - you appear to be writing from the heart of someone who knew this person's struggle firsthand. Such a teachable moment for the readers. rcj
A beautiful, inspiring, and deeply spiritual poem. Well done, thanks!
Mary, this definitely pulls at my heart strings! Awesome writing!
Mary beautiful-beyond words- of the heart...touching the soul.