A Little Boy Poem by Hm. Nes

A little boy with eager eyes
And eager hands to try his aim,
His strength as well, with brand-new sling-
The boy was me

A mockingbird fell dead that day,
Not to the ground, but limply hung
From a lower limb in the neighbor's tree
The boy could see

With gripping fear he climbed the tree
Up to the silent mockingbird
And cradled lifeless, song-less thing
The boy down on his knees

A grave he dug in a nearby shrub
A prayer he prayed with solemn vow
Through tears, to never kill again
The boy felt free

But a Daisy BB gun replaced
The slingshot, then a 20-gauge
As sparrows fell, then pheasants, mourning doves
The boy...
The boy...

He piled the squirrels, rabbits, deer
No more of promises, no tears
The boy had grown to be a man
The man is me