They handed him a mask to protect his face
But then he was punched in the gut
A padded vest was tossed to his side
They tossed him a bat, but to no avail
Relentless punches fell randomly
“Help” he cried, “Please help me!”
They cheered him onward
Boots to protect his feet, gloves for his hands
And still he cried, “Please Help Me!”
As the bullies shadow fell again and again
The boy tried, ducked, weaved, eyes darting
Surely someone would step in and help him
But all that was done, was tossed to him
As he fell, astonished and defeated to the ground.
———-
My mother pulled over many a time to stop a neighborhood fight.
Marching up to the boys, pulling them apart, sending them home with
threats of calling their parents. It embarrassed me, to which she replied,
“Someone has to do something.”
In these troubled times, I hear her voice.
Wishing for the strength of a mother to pull Russia off of Ukraine.
“Someone has to do something…”
I feel like I am watching the same shame that started WWII.
