Keeper Of The Flame

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 Fifty Years Ago



Ronny was only a kid, had just turned fifteen
His hair always combed and his hands always clean
Police said it was difficult to describe the scene
When he took his life one day with a killing machine...

 

Ronny was small for his age, quiet as could be
So meek and mild, sometimes he was hard to see
It would take years to finally discover the key
As to why he closed the book of his history...

 

He sat in the back of the class, silent and alone
One day the teacher asked where Ronny had gone
His parents were called but didn't come to the phone
Later we heard, Ronny had left for the great unknown...

 

We knew he shot himself, but that was all we knew
We were all in a quandary, our guesses were few
As years went on, visions of Ronny faded from our view
When we are young we forget so easily, it's true....

 


Many years later I met his sister at a local mall
Ronny's name came up and I told her what I could recall
She said Ronny died due to his girlfriend's pregnancy
She died in childbirth and he couldn't live with the memory....

 


So here's to Ronny, I don't judge you at all
Fifteen years old, your choices were small
You and your girlfriend made a bad call
What would I do, if fifteen and up against the wall.....



April 7 2009



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