Page 13 - Poems by Alyson Malach - Childhood to Adulthood
P. 13
Lame Boy Alone
Everything is quiet not a sound is heard.
The silence is shatered by a few harsh words.
‘Hey there, you shrimp, stop a mo.’
The lame boy replies’ I’ve got places to go.
A grin crosses the skin heads face.
Followed by, ‘I’ll soon put him in his place.
The boy limps on to his des�na�on
But the skinhead fumes, with aggrava�on
He shouts again, and because he is ignored.
He pulls from his pocket, a knife like a sword.
The lame boy stops surrounded by a crowd.
And his ear drums beat with noises that are loud.
He holds his stomach; he feels the pain.
The skin head mob strike him down again.
From afar a siren is heard
The boot boys scater without a word
This boy has been a vic�m of pointless assault.
But who can we blame? It’s not our fault.
The boys in blue li� the boy’s head.
But they are too late, for the boy is dead.
Alyson: Aged 15
12 | P a g e
