That little boy

That little boy

he pushed me down and threw me on the ground.

I don’t remember if it hurt

I just remember the shock.

I may have provoked him

I don’t recall

small and wiry

dingy and dirty

He demanded I let him rest on me

his back cold and boney

against my knees on the bus

he ordered me around and I naively followed

for a little while

but I don’t remember what he said

He died the other night in the electric chair

He CHOSE it for his end.

so violent

I felt bad once for stealing a pen

but to him stealing a life was the same.

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