The Crying Child (Excerpts) Poem by Ernie Gill

The child sat quietly in the corner.
The hurt he felt not visible to the eye.
The pain was real and deep.
All he could do was sit and cry.

The confrontation was ugly.
The words were hurtful from the start.
The remorse he felt for what he'd done
was genuine and from the heart.

His crime, a foolish mistake,
a glass of kool-aid spilled on the floor.
He had been told not to carry drinks.
But, childlike, he had forgotten once more.

His apology fell on deaf ears.
It seemed no one wanted to hear.
The carpet was worth more than he.
He wished he could just disappear.