ZONE OF DESPAIR

"Come on, lazy bones," she said,
Shaking the covers of his bed.
He didn't move. At all. She gasped.
She realised that her son was dead.

He had said "goodbye" instead of "goodnight",
When he disappeared upstairs last night.
She thought nothing of it at the time.
She believed that he was more or less fine.

He said once or twice that he was being bullied.
Come to think of it, he said it more times than that.
She told him to ignore it and thought that it would pass.
Told him off when she found out he'd not turned up in class.

She thought he'd just been messing around,
Made him swear he'd not skip school again.
Not realising that only pushed him forward,
Into his deep, despairing pain.

"Why?" she cried, "You could have talked to me."
In fact, he tried. But she didn't seem to see.
She heard, but never listened. And now it was too late.
She never thought this type of thing he'd ever contemplate.

"So you've left me with this," she said, "How am I supposed to
cope?
What good can result from this mess, how can there be any hope?"
Sadly she wasn't able to help her tragic but loved son.
But maybe, just maybe, she thought, his story could help someone.

12 August 2002