Rescue Them

Sometimes I spend too much time Remembering when, remembering where – Realizing, once again, the truths of then -- When a boy of, maybe, ten (or younger), Shoeless, ragged, unclipped, wild-haired, Roamed about, seeking comfort, seeking caring. We (I, my siblings) were not treasured gifts, But heavy burdens; our parents’ Lessons to us were: never to ask For anything, never to complain to them, Never to “need” anything from them. We (and I, especially) Learned to live furtively, steeped in urgent Need to keep our secrets, guard the “privacy” Meant to mislead outside onlookers To avoid unwelcome consequences. The young who are wise beyond their years From deprivation, neglect, near-starvation, Escape as early as they can but Scars remain, and often they (we) retain An ingrained reticence, are slow To trust or to reveal themselves. Rescue them, by sharing time, companionship -- And, when deserved, encouragement -- The hopefulness that the current Slogan “It will get better” may be true.