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Array ( [sid] => 165871 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => wheelie's world [time] => 2011-04-14 15:32:09 [hometext] => [bodytext] => The slightly backward boy died as a man
in a nursing home. Just like your gran.
My dad told me earlier today
and at the time I had nothing to say.
my memories of 1975
where the slightly backward boy, was most alive
At the time I was conscious of his size
for he was older, but not wise.
My dad put up with him as we walked
through Haslam park with my toy boat.
This metal toy with clockwork prop,
the isle of man is where we shopped.
Olden days technology
was of no consequence to me.
Gary was the subject of fun
and spite, he was too dumb to run.
His awkwardness was oh so clear
when gangs of kids towards him steered.
They asked him kindly to perform.
The laughing stock, it caused a storm.
His mother cried herself to sleep
at the thought of her son, who's mind was weak.
Her only son, though she had daughter's
the man of the house! Her hopes were slaughtered.
Pity was most placed on her.
Her son, from others, had no care.
But back to that day, as I digress
this walk through the park, I was in my vest
it was a lovely summer day.
The pond, then the baths, we were on our way.
At the pond the prop was wound,
a string was tied up and around.
Expectations of the clockwork prop
were low, so the boat would be retrieved if it stopped.
Gary loved to be in charge
and I looked up to him because he was large.
I was 4 years old so I didn't see
that he was the same intellectually.
The joy in his face as he explained
the events to follow in a simple chain.
He looked so proud at my eyes of wonder.
No longer did he feel so under
everyone and everything.
For a brief moment his heart did sing
and I am glad that I was there
at his triumph, for little time we shared,
as I grew up and to my shame
I was one of the kids who called his name
in chanting as we poked and teased,
and brought this poor boy to his knees.
I'm sorry Gary for my part
in the torment that broke your mothers heart.
Life for you early doors was a test.
Now, at last I hope you are at rest.
[comments] => 0 [counter] => 90 [topic] => 55 [informant] => poeticjestix [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => dedicatedpoems )
wheelie's world

Contributed by poeticjestix on Thursday, 14th April 2011 @ 03:32:09 PM in AEST
Topic: dedicatedpoems



The slightly backward boy died as a man
in a nursing home. Just like your gran.
My dad told me earlier today
and at the time I had nothing to say.
my memories of 1975
where the slightly backward boy, was most alive
At the time I was conscious of his size
for he was older, but not wise.
My dad put up with him as we walked
through Haslam park with my toy boat.
This metal toy with clockwork prop,
the isle of man is where we shopped.
Olden days technology
was of no consequence to me.
Gary was the subject of fun
and spite, he was too dumb to run.
His awkwardness was oh so clear
when gangs of kids towards him steered.
They asked him kindly to perform.
The laughing stock, it caused a storm.
His mother cried herself to sleep
at the thought of her son, who's mind was weak.
Her only son, though she had daughter's
the man of the house! Her hopes were slaughtered.
Pity was most placed on her.
Her son, from others, had no care.
But back to that day, as I digress
this walk through the park, I was in my vest
it was a lovely summer day.
The pond, then the baths, we were on our way.
At the pond the prop was wound,
a string was tied up and around.
Expectations of the clockwork prop
were low, so the boat would be retrieved if it stopped.
Gary loved to be in charge
and I looked up to him because he was large.
I was 4 years old so I didn't see
that he was the same intellectually.
The joy in his face as he explained
the events to follow in a simple chain.
He looked so proud at my eyes of wonder.
No longer did he feel so under
everyone and everything.
For a brief moment his heart did sing
and I am glad that I was there
at his triumph, for little time we shared,
as I grew up and to my shame
I was one of the kids who called his name
in chanting as we poked and teased,
and brought this poor boy to his knees.
I'm sorry Gary for my part
in the torment that broke your mothers heart.
Life for you early doors was a test.
Now, at last I hope you are at rest.




Copyright © poeticjestix ... [ 2011-04-14 15:32:09]
(Date/Time posted on site)





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