Train Wreck

Devastation of persecution

Small boy racing towards the train of the
whistle he can hear.
Treading on the dirt path thundering feet
brings him ever so near.
Reflections in tear streamed eyes show
torment from school and at home.
He runs not fast enough, far enough
and always alone.
To be better or smarter or just a good
lad.
Some form of acceptance from his peers
and his dad.
Gentle words and kind gestures have seldom
been known.
The seed of disparity has firmly been sewn.
Esacape from elders and friends seemed
never so far.
The escape came suddenly when he slipped
under the car.