Boy of Eight

His tears fell freely within the helmet,

Sev'ral boys tenderly asked what was wrong,

His face was red, not with shame but with sweat,

He was spent, the practice had been too long.

Driving home from school he spoke of his fame

At recess he scored the winning touchdown,

He felt he was the hero of the game

Certain his achievement secured renown.

He acts without fear of shame or judgment,

He speaks what's in his heart with no pretense,

He means no unkindness nor ill intent 

He's just a boy exuding innocence.

Society's teachings of shame can wait

So we can all enjoy the boy of eight.

September 2014