That Troy Boy
That Troy Boy
He was often called that Troy-Boy.
He toddled around like a little toy.
He seldom walked but trotted around,
Like Edith Bunker out on the town.
His round blonde head bobbing around,
Smiling when he came to my town.
I liked seeing that blond head of hair,
With a happy smile on a face so fair.
Then that Troy Boy moved far away,
So I did not see him for many a day.
He was just a teenager of sixteen,
Not knowing what life would mean.
He wound up on a harsh path of wrong.
We know that he only wanted to belong.
Then suddenly his life crashed to a halt.
We did not think that it was his fault.
His mother mourns him, that we know,
Wishing her Troy Boy was home again,
Back in her life where he should be,
Instead of leaving her to carry this grief.
We think about him each and every day,
Wishing that he did not have to go away,
But his time was up, it was meant to be.
Though for many years, we loved him so,
We knew that we had to let him go.
A short life was predestined for him to have,
Long ago, it was known he would soon leave.
Copyright © May 14, 2007 Betty J. Reynolds