I cannot tell you what he looked like,
or what he liked to eat.
I cannot tell you what he smelled like,
or if he was effete.
I cannot tell you his name or age,
when he laid down to die;
Because he is not one, but many,
bodies laid here to edify–
their presence in the human race;
his presence, to sanctify.
He was as old as he was young,
as much a product of the pain that to his ears were sung.
He made little effort to be himself,
even when he was alone.
There was little doubt of the kind of man,
that he had come to clone:
Right by his neighbour,
right by his God,
right by everyone,
yet still a fraud.
Is it wrong for him to live proud and free?
Unfettered by the shackles of normalcy;
unfettered by the binds that hold him down,
and keep him there until he drowns.
Is it wrong for him to want to be,
more than the man that people see,
through pandering eyes and hateful tongues,
Is it so wrong for him to be?
I cannot tell you how he lived his life,
or why he chose to end it.
I cannot tell you for it’s not one he;
just another tear in this millennial sea.
I can, however tell you how,
to stand beside him,
when he’s lost it all;
and help him start over again,
a life of love and healing,
where his is neither; fault, nor sin,
just a life of fulfilled meaning.
I can tell you how,
to help him feel,
to help him think,
and grow more free.
I can tell you all the ways
he hurts, so that you can
help him be at ease.
Help him see that there is more to these,
cities and streets than the atrocities,
he bears witness to, every day.
Help him see the blues and greens,
and all the shades of burgundy.
But better yet, I can tell you how,
to help clear all the hate and doubt,
that around this young boy harbours,
all that negativity and clout.
Help him move on from the guilt
of trusting the people who
were to be there for him,
yet didn’t see that promise through.
Help him. Help yourself;
stand, and listen,
think, and feel,
what it must be like,
for life to become an ordeal.
To bear that pain,
for no fault of yours,
other than birth, and having feelings.
Think. Act. Feel.
You are the son, and the father.