Only loved by his family, he was a quiet boy.
So much taller than his classmates, he soon became their toy.
The clouded, thick glasses he wore, were often taken.
So very bullied and teased, he was often left shaken.
This very quiet and 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 sports, proud, he joined a team.
Bullies grown up, words the same, spiteful jeers, ugly and mean.
Someone should have known, someone should have cared, but they didn’t.
The should have stopped him, when the gun was in his lonely hand.
Tears shed now are much too late, for their quiet, tall, sad classmate.
Years of hurt he kept inside, no one knew, but now they cried.
A friendly smile or handshake may have changed the scene for the stricken family.
The tears slowly shed on the moist soil, still soft on his grave.
Cannot restore a cherished youth, or the price he has paid.
Perhaps those guilty, will have a change start, because of him.
This poem was written/submitted by Lauren Hall.