For a special friend:
Today my best pal, my number one,
called me a dirty darkie,
when i wouldn't give her a sweetie.
I said,softly," I would never believe you of all people say that word to me.
Others, yes, the ones
that are stupid and ignorant,
and don't know better, but
not you, Char Hardy, not you.
I thought i could trust you.
I thought you were different.
But i must have been mistaken.'
Char went a very strange colour.
Said a most peculiar,"Sorry,"
as if she was swallowing her voice.
Grabbed me, hugged me, begged me
to forgive her.
She was crying.
I didn't mean it. I didn't mean it.
I felt the playground sink. Sorry. Sorry.
A see-saw rocked, crazy,all by itself
An orange swing swung high on its own.
My voice was hard as steel frame:
"Well then, what exactly did you mean?"
hope u know tat i m refering to u...yes u..my special friend..the one reading the blog now..u should know the reason y this poem is for u...it was a lovely poem but...oh well..u know wat i talking about la
3:05 PM
catch a little raindrop
