Boys Will Be Boys

black

Threw a party last night
for nine eight year old boys.
I forgot what true freedom
and bliss was all about.

Simply watching an apple
bobbing contest taught me
to be silly again, laugh
out loud until your belly
hurts and never stop.

Sticky marshmallows,
bonfires and giggling tents,
reminded me of how life
should be.

Straight to the point
no crying, just stick your
head in a bucket until
water comes out your ears.

Then laugh at your wet shirt and
shoes that tell of your pride in
winning the apple of the day.

Boys will be boys until the
darkness falls, then they become
monsters of the night howling
at the moon with mouths turned
up at the sky.

Freedom, to be young again
where you yell hungry and
a hotdog comes right
to your beckons call,
waited upon by
those who adore your soul.

Blissful, eight year old boys,
finding there way in a young
mans world, laughing at
the moon until they come of age.
Sandie Heckman

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