Tears Too Late

a poem by Nancy Ellen Crossland, USA

Loved by his family, he was a quiet boy
Much taller than his classmates,
He soon became their toy.

The thick glasses he wore were often taken,
Bullied and teased, he was often left shaken,

The quiet, gentle boy kept it all inside
As the taunts and names called crushed him
And took away his pride,

He found comfort and joy in football,
As he proudly joined the team,
But the bullies grew up their words were the same,
Spiteful jeers ugly and mean.

Someone should have known
Someone should have cared
Someone should have stopped him
When the gun was in his hand,

The tears shed now are much too late for their quiet,
tall, sad classmate,
The years of hurt he kept inside,
No one knew, but now they cried,

The friendly smile and handshake could have changed the scene,
For a grief stricken family and their quiet boy,
What can be done to stop this tragedy from
happening again?

Look inside your fellow man the beauty is within,
There is no place for taunts and jeers,
The lessons must begin,

The tears shed on the soil still soft on his grave,
Will not restore a cherished youth
Or the price he has paid,

Perhaps those guilty will be granted a reprieve
Finally knowing the truth,
The change must begin with them and their tears shed much too late

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