Thursday, May 19, 2011


And they closed the beaches
When that little boy drowned.
And they searched and they searched
But he couldn’t be found.
He left behind a father, a sister and mother
But the saddest of all, he left a twin brother.
They were almost alike in every way
He cried when he didn’t come back and play.
They stopped his crying with just a ‘shush’
He knew (they could tell) when the beach fell a hush.
They carried him up, and onto the sand
That boy that will never become a man.
The father cried, the mother screamed
Things were as bad as they had seemed.
Silence quickly fell among the crowd
His voice; it wasn’t very loud
‘Wake up,’ he said. ‘Wake up Tim,
There’s places that we haven’t been
I’ll grow up, and you will to
There’s many things we planned to do.’
All was quiet, all but one sound
His mother falling to the ground.
Because a piece of her heart broke
With every word her young son spoke.
They took him, placed him in a bag
The father sobbed, his shoulders sagged.
‘Mum, they’re taking him away!’
Stop. Their father tried to say
But all that came out was a silent cry
As they lifted his son’s body high.



Lilah said...

That's incredible, the kind of writing hat makes me feel a little sick. I will copy it into my journal.

Melee said...

This just broke my heart. This is painfully gorgeous, dear. (Him having a twin makes it extra-sad. I am fascinated by twins and little is sadder to me than a lonely twin.)