A Schoolyard Shame
by Ryan Isaacson
Teenage boys, a savage pack.
Jay yelled out, a sudden smack.
A clod of dirt had hit his back,
Disintegrated with a thwack.
A coward’s plan, surprise attack.
They hit him in the back.
Another clod, this made of mud,
Struck his chest with deadened thud.
Then all at once, a frenzied feed.
To make him hurt, to make him bleed.
C’mon guys,
Ostracize.
Brutalize.
Crucify.
Let the soil fill the sky.
Just don’t throw at me.
Forsake allies as broke earth flies.
Look at him run! Go for his eyes!
A chill dawn breaks, a shrill crow’s cry.
You know this man? Deny! Deny!
Now looking back it’s plain to see how fickle friends can be.
We jeered him as he passed dejected.
Crime and punishment, disconnected.
Beaten by this harsh correction,
Turns and looks in my direction.
I heard him clear, though he was crying.
“I thought you were my friend, Ryan.”
Et tu, Brute? What could I say?
“I guess that you thought wrong, Jay.”
Though hormones percolate within,
Testosterone, Adrenaline.
They’re not the cause, they’re not to blame.
I did the deed, I bare the shame.
Now decades on I lie awake,
Haunted by this mean mistake.
The driven stake.
Sadistic snake.
Viciousness for its own sake.
Selfishness and cruelty.
Ruthless inhumanity.
The first stone cast, his pride we rob.
A popular if dirty job.
A twisted joy, to hear him sob.
The dark in man, laid bare in mob.
