Richard Thomas Cummings: The Child Within
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The Child Within

21st Century


"No!" the young boy shouted. "No,
I will not do it"---he stated;
His eyes could not deceive
His own guilt of conscience---
To gaze up at a face, where as
The one across from him,
Simply stared in silence.

A cold toning of the
Iron bell rung, shouting
Out! From the courtyard
Of vast open grasses and
Empty swings, once inhabited
By the laughter of children.

These two played the
Delicate game, dancing
And weaving, back and
Forth, from the see-saw
Of rights versus wrongs.

The older of the two
(His face so stern)
Pleaded with the younger,
As if flesh to bone;
Begging, to his brother!

"Sweet Joseph"
He said, in quite the
Manner of Calm;
Enshrouded by
Darkness and gloom;
Beckoning wails
Of boys spoken,
Like grown men upon
The distillment of the room.

Desperate, "But you must!"
He went on, continuing;
Hours past crumbled
(A cold night set in
Decay, as dark clouds
Rolled in, and by
A doubt, their
Star's light)
Passed out.

Years upon tears
Seemed to have
Graced this dreaded place;
Where the swollen
Tear held frozen
On the young boy's cheek,
As his brother went on.

"By the dawning light
You, Joseph
Will be the barer of
The bullets which
You shall place within
The chambers, one by one,
Pulling that trigger,
Again and again,
Striking me down!---
To my death!"

Lightning whipped across
A forbidden sky,
While the younger
Sunk his head,
Shame-felt;
As bright eyes peered
Over a gun, resting
Within his tiny palms.

Slowly, his head rose---
As eyes of purest blue
Tears, met with the cold
Eyes within a face;
(His face, so stern!)
The older, hardly a move---
His lips the only motion---
Like the crashing of waves,
Beating down, over
And over.

Softly, the rain
Came to a sudden
Calmness of Refrain;
Drip by passing drip,
Our sweet Joseph
Soon knew, the time
Was forth-coming;
Oh the grief! of
The splattered news
Across the gentle morning.

His precious thoughts
Were merely set aside;
A cold gun in hand,
Swiftly, he gave it rise;
Like a new born,
It breathed for life---
As its sweetness
Soon would be
Nursing its love
Within the older's chest!

A shot rang,
As the birds
Would spread their
Wings; taking flight
Like the bullet---
Spewing out.

A lone tear, finally
Slid down his cheek;
(The younger, so stern)---
As the bitter bullet
Shattered the illusion
Of the older; so many
Pieces befell him,
As their soft glow
Would soon fade.

Poor Joseph,
Was all alone,
As the sweet bullet
Cradled his tainted heart---
Sliding to the floor;
As the auburn
Rays of light pushed
Away the darkness
Of his bleating mind.

In the distance
Of the coming day,
The screams
Of children playing
Filled the damp air;
As one child lay---
There, crying
Softly; his light's
Despair, faded---
Without care.


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