He was a little slow to learn,
we didn’t want him this way.
Marched in time to his own drummer,
marked staccato to our worry.
Came away from war
with songs and stories.
Smiled easy,
but the darkness wore him
like a cloak inside.
He took no refuge.
We asked him to stop,
he laughed and kept on going.
There was never any reason
we could see,
why he lived a life
so carelessly.
Why he’d smile
when we were somber.
What strange light
filled his eyes with wonder.
He was an outcast
from an early age,
but it was us
who he cast aside.
A world built
that could not contain him
and never was the same
after he died.
So much for pleasantries.
HG – 2020
Great post 😁