Jade Baumgardner


I see him sitting and I don’t know what to say
The lonely boy at the bus stop seeming miserable and grave
He looks up and sees me or does he look right through
My feet start moving closer but I don’t know what to do
He grabs for my hand and lays it on his heart
I can feel it beating and it gives my mind a start
This is the feel of new, the new feel of change
It’s not grave or miserable it’s happy and almost strange
An individual peace separate from those I’ve known
Reflective and knowing something found on his own
I stand there, palm to heart, soaking it all in
This boy or man giving me a piece of him
A master a teacher a lover a friend
All the things that make a person
Things that tear us down and make us whole once again
I look at this boy that I see as a man
And I see what he sees I let go of his hand
I sit and stare as the people go by
The children on the corner, the children that cry
And I want to show them this unspoken proof
That the lonely boy showed me, this thing called religion, this thing called truth

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Poem Submitted: Thursday, September 24, 2009

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Comments about Religion by Jade Baumgardner

  • Tim Wostradowski (9/25/2009 12:48:00 AM)

    i wish someone could touch me with religion this profoundly, great poem

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Langston Hughes


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