Young Lad

The young lad walked along the side of the road
Kicking any small stone that crossed his path
His head hung down
His long bangs covered his eyes
I wondered how he could possibly see
He reached to his back-pack
Hoisted it up higher on his back
One could see his mind was elsewhere
Off into a land of make-belief
Where all things were right
For him
Thoughts crossed my mind of what he could possibly be thinking
Was he living in a unhappy home
Where both parents were constantly arguing
Was his place of abode one that he lived under constant abuse
Or was his unhappiness of his own making
One that he resented the ‘house rules’
Rules he felt did not apply to him
I wondered as he passed on by
What would become of him
I could see him in later years
Standing on the street corner
Begging for his next meal
Shabby clothes,
Un-kept appearance
But, I could have seen him
Through such different eyes
Eyes that saw a bright young man
Full of life
Married and his children playing out back of their home
Which road will this young lad take
I wondered
As he kicked another stone
And watched as it skipped off into the grass
I wondered what his future will be
For I saw sadness upon his face
A face filled with the unknown
Filled with a sense of being not wanted
Filled without knowing the love of a parent
What will his life be like
In future years

Gail Adams May 10 2011