Little boy lost

Is there enough ink to

Permit your story to

Be told, enough ears

For your truth to be

Heard, this sputtering,

Stammering nervousness

Of a tale that can't

Be told, just now, but

Foreshadowed in its

Intermittent grief and

Body rending sobs.

Be silent, be quiet,

Go to your room,

Get away, you're

Too much, too

Much, so go hide,

Hide, hide

Away.