RUNNING SHOES
On the shoe rack by the front door,
Worn running shoes there once more,
A marathon runners shoes quite strong,
Yet they have stayed there far too long.
A promising runner, just a young boy
Full of life and energy, full of joy,
Running along the sidewalk one day,
When a very drunk driver can his way.
A crippled body lies in a hospital bed,
His eyes tell us he wished he was dead,
A drunk boy his own age is to blame,
I wonder if he feels remorse or any shame.
I look at my sons running shoes and cry,
Hurting, I ask the simple question, why?
But no answer comes to my breaking heart,
I hope one day the anguish and pain will depart.
But what of the other poor bay, what of him,
Was the accident some momentary whim,
Or was he always drugged or drunk every day?
I needed to find out for myself in some way.
Matthew was a real lost loner so I was told,
Been in lots of trouble before he was very old,
In a remand home I found him sitting alone,
He looked lonely, lost, was ever love shown?
My heart again ached and was more pained,
If he’d have been loved and confidence gained
My son may be still running fast as he could run,
Both of them knowing about laughter and fun.
Hopeless were the deep blue eyes, no light shone,
Motionless his body, as if all his life was gone.
Eating, sleeping, breathing but not really living,
Broken at sixteen, a lost soul fading and dying.
Two people destroyed, not one, what a shame
To me this was indeed a double dose of pain,
Could they help each other heal in some way,
Be brothers instead of enemies one special day?
Yes, two boys are mine, instead of just one,
Both are healing and learning to have fun,
Best quickest way to heal is to love and forgive,
That way the heart and mind know how to live.
(Millicent) Ann Margetson January 15, 2003