A Cry for the little black boy ©

Who Will Cry for the Little Boy

– by Antwone Fisher

Who will cry for the little boy?
Lost and all alone.
Who will cry for the little boy?
Abandoned without his own?

Who will cry for the little boy?
He cried himself to sleep.
Who will cry for the little boy?
He never had for keeps.

Who will cry for the little boy?
He walked the burning sand
Who will cry for the little boy?
The boy inside the man.

Who will cry for the little boy?
Who knows well hurt and pain
Who will cry for the little boy?
He died again and again.

Who will cry for the little boy?
A good boy he tried to be
Who will cry for the little boy?
Who cries inside of me.

This blog is on the tragedy and senselessness of black on black crime and our youths dying before their time. This poem came to mind after reading the Evening News on Quamarie Barnes’ story, and about the boy who killed him-the latter though the perpetrator, a victim of this deep-rooted malady in the black community and inner cities.

The poem ‘Who will Cry For The Little Boy’ was written by Antwone Fisher, whose life story book ‘Finding Fish’ was made into a film directed by and starring Denzel Washington. A life marred by deprivation, child physical, sexual and emotional abuse, Antwone Fisher did not allow those enormous psychological injuries to fully determine his life’s Journey. Though, in my opinion, those scars leave a certain legacy and one has to almost daily turn that wound into wonder and life purpose alchemy.

I think this is a poignant poem for our wounded youths at this time-those who go on to hurt through their hurt, and those who are able to turn hurt into healing, hope and difference making. I will cry for the little boy; I do cry for the little boy, and the little girl, all around the world, living in the absence of a loving and protective childhood. I cry for them all, and for those little children inside grown people.

I was one of those inner city children. I was one of those lost children inside a grown woman. And it was my crying for myself that brought me the healing I both needed and deserved. An outpouring that ensured that, though I had little control over how my life began, I got to decide, from that point on, how it would go on, to the very end.

P.s. And Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.”

Rest In Eternal Sweet Peace Quamarie Barnes, and may the Comforting Peace of the Lord that surpasses all understanding find its way into your parents, loved ones and friends’ hearts.

Peace and Love,

Light…

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