almost
point at the children you
grew up
with
and knew where they were
headed.
not all of them had red hair.
there was something
wild
in their eyes,
a rebellious nature
about them.
something inside
was broken.
they were the boys
and girls who
threw
things out the window
of the school bus.
rarely where you wrong,
and as the years went by
you read
their stories in
the daily
news and saw their
mugshots
on the post office wall.
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