Little Boy Odd

-Little Boy Odd-
by
Keaton Foster



Little boy odd
Once named Thom
Not a mistake
But rather
An accident
Shouldn’t have happened
Could’ve been avoided
Being someone’s mother
Being someone’s father
Both
One hell of a commitment
Damn near impossible
For just a few to keep
The odds, in his favor
Yet sadly he still lost
Life, such a tedious game
Just when we have it down
It kicks us right in the teeth
It grabs us by the throat
Forcing us to plead
One moment more
One infinite chance at another
Always wanting, needing
Quite secretly reeling
Appearances must be kept
Those unlike him cannot afford
To let others know
That they, all of them
Are like him most of all
Little boy odd
Understands
He has always been alone
Walking behind forward eyes
No one knows that he is there
Strangers abundantly clear
Those on the opposite side
Of the street, and thus reality
They could never understand
Relating is of no concern
Compassion is only a gesture
Something quite easily given
But damn near impossibly taken
Against the grain is his way
Fighting the powers that be
While he lives as he sees fit
Little boy odd
Is no longer little at all
He is a giant of a man
Capable more than most
He, unlike them is certain
He will do whatever it is he must
Survival is all that he knows
And how to do it
Is all that he understands
He is not concerned with God above
Nor any lesser evil below
Here and now
In this moment and time
Are everything that he defines
And that, my vacant friends
Is what matters most of all
To him, little boy odd…






Little Boy Odd
Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2013