Poem: Just Another Kid

The slum highrises of Chicago are full of these stories or, more likely, the same story told again and again.

Just Another Kid He was born part of a profit structure Breast fed, when she remembered, her milk laced with heroin He cried away his hunger and habit Solitary by the age of five, learning the cunning of hunted animals, the art of not being seen, untrusting any touch, eyes withheld from everything that hurts A shadow life at ten, mixing darker shades that slip down stairwells dank with piss Running with survivors, edging away, bold, when boldness is the only hope Dealing, stealing, reeling at fifteen, his shoes a badge of honor in a dishonored life Father to his own son, born of a nameless girl Continuing the heritage of no heritage Dead at sixteen, no major news event Uncomprehending the history he’s left at the bottom of a stairwell, blood and broken glass Just another kid and life and death move on

This poem is included in Jim Freeman's poetry collection BROKEN PIECES available here in print or as an e-Book in your favorite formats.