Very late last night I met a curious young man in purple hoodie and green shoes. I was only helping search for a lost dog. He was lost too. Boy was he ever.
He was wildly drunk and wildly friendly. I took him to his home but his bigger twin brother was there, waiting to beat him up. So we left again.
We talked. He cried. I held him. I'm no saint. I had to fight selfish instincts. He's only seventeen. I held him and nothing more, until it was safe for him to sneak back in and go to bed.
I never told him that I live nearby, nor gave him any manner in which to contact me. I would have liked to remain a source of support; a role-model even. But I don't know that I can trust myself. There will be no end of men who will take advantage of him but I will not be one of them. I'm no saint but I'm decent enough.
The dog too, got home safe. I went to the harbour and watched the sun come up and worked through some feelings and twiddled with the guitar. Thought about writing a song about purple hoodies and green shoes and then didn't. I'm no saint. But I'm decent enough.
The Merry n Not So Merry
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I wish for you a smoother path than you’ve had a room, a friend, a sky to
make your heart glad. For you to know that the dark’s a balm as well, a
pathway ...
1 hour ago
1 comment:
No one is a saint... that's what makes us interesting. And makes us think.
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