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passing moments…

May 4, 2014

On the outside – hard as nails.

Knuckles scraped, tattoos,

that wild glint in the eye that says: don’t fuck with me!

But his nails are chewed to the quick;

and his insides flutter like dry poplar leaves on a breeze.

He fumbles with his fingers as he stands there and fumbles with his past.

Embarrassed at the warm tears He can’t control –

Weeping for the broken lost boy inside. 

 

He thanks me for having taken confession of his secrets,

Now he can go with a little peace.

 

As a final thought he asks why God would allow him to even be born to such disfunctional parents.

I want to lie to him and say that it will all be okay in the end –

“You’ve got a lot of shit to deal with,” I say to him instead. “That’s for sure.”

“What did I do to deserve it?” he would like to know.

“Look around”, I say to him. “Did any of you deserve this?”

“Everyone here is on the short end of the stick. No sixteen-year-old deserves to be homeless.”

“Maybe God has bigger plans for you?”, I say to him as a final thought.

He pauses for a ½ second and then continues to put on his jacket.

“If you believe in that sort of thing,” I say after him, as he goes off to his room.

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