A door opened
The small boy thought locked.
Through the gap he saw
Light and prospect.
Sitting in thought
He contemplated
A million questions:
Why now?
When?
How?
Should I?
Will it hurt?
Stepping forward
He knew was dangerous
He’d been warned
‘Know your place.’
Then the ‘what ifs’.
A word, an idea
Connection maybe
An offer even
Suggestions of
A new dawn
A new hope
A new beginning.
A new plan.
Am I,
Can I,
Be brave
He wondered
As he took up his pen.
In a far off country the small boy sat at his desk
Writing words to a far off small girl.
His words spoke of love
Of hope
Of life.
Her words spoke of loneliness
Abandonment
Futility.
What would happen thought the small boy
If I were to meet this small girl of the north?
What would happen thought the small girl
If I were to met this small boy of the south?
She’ll run thought the small boy
He’ll run thought the small girl
I’m unsightly and stayed in my ways thought the small boy
I’m unsightly and stayed in my ways thought the small girl.
Then fate in its wicked twisted way
Stepped in,
And grinning cruelly
Stuffed everything.
The boy put down his pen
Sighed deeply
As Gilbert O’Sullivan
Reminded him his place.
Written for: http://dversepoets.com/2014/09/27/open-link-night-september/
Morpethroad 
the sadness in this is that at that moment of potentially changing both their directions…their false beliefs about themselves stopped them…and confirmed those false truthes…ack
Thank you Brian, I think I agree. Enjoy your weekend.
Now this is so sad Michael. But if fate changed things once, it can change things again. I’ve learned that lesson in life. Nicely written as always.
Yes it certainly can Jackie, the small boy I am sure lives in hope.
Ha…this poem brought a smile. Nice song too. Fear of rejection seems to be crippling the male psyche. This small boy is obviously not a typical Aussie . They usually just charge in and never take no for an answer until the woman relents. It usually works LOL.
Well thank you but I am far from a typical Aussie small boy. Enjoy the weekend, the weather is great today.
Lovely fable here that has a very nice tender touch to it – I enjoyed the read – Thank you.. With Best Wishes Scott
Thank you Scott enjoy your weekend.
A tender tale that’s oft repeated in life – poignant and heart-wrenching.
Hi Polly thanks so much for reading and your comment. Have a good day.
Simply told. Well told.
Thank you so much.
How sad that the negative thoughts intervened and that itself, is a choice too ~ I find it fascinating how thoughts, positive and negative, can impact our life choices ~ Have a good weekend Michael & enjoy your lovely season ~
Thank you Grace it’s been a great weekend.
oh i wished he would’ve written her and they had met – and both their lives could look much better… so very very sad
Thank you Claudia I guess for some folk it is just not meant to be.
I think the world is full of stories where simply courage have been lacking… so sad when it happens…. though.
Thanks Bjorn, courage is not all it takes i think, but one never knows.
It is indeed a sad story. Hope there will be a follow up to it with a happier ending.
Hi Gabriella thanks for reading and your comment, we await with fingers crossed.
So many stories in life seem to end this way. We always wish it were different, and we say…..”If only….” Well penned, Michael.
Thank you Mary, a sad fact of life for so many.
i have to say..that song by Gilbert Sullivan is the saddest song of all….
When i was alone and ostracized by most everyone else for being different.. it terrified me most to think of losing my mother…
And now..i know..her love..it lives inside of me to be shared instead of held…
So she’ll never die..at least not in my eyes…
What a gift that is..
OF NEVER EVER BEING ALONE..:)
SMILES..YES SMILES…
MY MOTHER GAVE ME THAT..:)
along with laughs….;)
forevermorenow….
Thank you for your comment. I agree with you about the song, it is the saddest song along with the theme music from Midnight Cowboy which for me is the saddest of all.
That is a wonderful gift your mother has left you, our parents do stay with us, their love never dies with them.
Have a good day.
So sad, a lovely capture.
Thank you ayala.
Poor little boy; I feel so sorry for him. I knew a little girl just like him. Her mother told her “No!” every time she wanted to write. She continued to remember and listen to her mother’s voice until she was forty. A lovely piece Michael – as always.
Thank you Lyn, knowing small people as we do gives us something in common again…