Young Boy

By    

Young Boy

I asked the young boy was his father still in the
picture.
It caught me off guard when he showed me a wallet
size.
He started shaking, I could tell his heart was racing
and
His eyes glazed as tears began to form in them.
He tells me this story of how his father left him,
Made him another statistic in a world
That didn't always accept him.
Teachers and staff in the school don't understand
His pain and can’t relate to him, so
They call him a problem child and start to reject him.
If it takes a village to raise a child,
He must be living on an island of his own
Because it wasn't just his father but also
His community that left him.
It’s a shame.
I mean no disrespect to those who are
protesting things that are happening around the world,
But when will we take a stand in our own
neighborhoods to make a change?
We got young boys in our own city with
their arms stretched out, crying for help,
And people walk right by them, scared to lend a hand.
To me that’s kind of strange.
Strange because the same young boys they’re scared
to help,
They talk about on social media and blast them on the
news.
They’re yelling that this gang violence has to stop,
There must be something we can do.
But you can't or you won’t, because, nowadays,
Community centers are about money and politics,
And if you don't got that five dollars

To go play hoops in the gym, you get kicked out of it,
Basically sending them right back to the streets.
Then people want to get back on the news
And say they need to stay out of it.
Man, this is making me sick!
We need to have things for these young boys to do,
Not robbing them for what most of their parents don't
have.
This isn’t making any sense.
But I guess the rich are gonna stay rich,
The poor are gonna stay poor,
And these young boys are still gonna stay lost until
Fathers step up and
The community helps out that much more.
Where is the love?

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems


Share This Poem