Underneath the old stone bridge 
We played most everyday
That’s where he shared his story
That’s where I heard him say.

He wished that he  could fly
Get  up and fly away
There he  prayed for a miracle
He prayed and prayed each day.

It wasn’t  a sworn secret
That I was pledged to keep 
I shared his  story that same night
Before I fell  asleep.

I told my dad about him
Before I went to bed 
He said some things are private
Some things better left unsaid.

In the morning after breakfast
I headed to the bridge
I sat there waiting for him
Along the water’s edge.

The kids at school were vicious
They talked behind his back
They said they didn’t like him
Because the boy was black.

I skipped stones for hours
I waited patiently 
But he never showed up
Wish he had  come with me.

They found him in his bedroom
He had hung himself
Telling me his secret
A desperate cry for help.


Photo by Google Images: flickr.com

Author: Patty Richardson

Writer: Film scripts, poetry, short stories.

One thought on “A SECRET”

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