Running. Would you please c/c this write? TY?
My brother is the coach in this story., and he told me about this kid...
Story needs help, so feel free to...
.........................................Running..............
The boy was running from the time he was born, but running's what he had to do
The foster homes were not so good, and one left him black and blue
And so he ran, and he ran just as fast as he could
Finally found this thing at which he was pretty good
And it was running.
He was noticed too, by his teachers, who were expecting far less than he gave
Jaded by now at the others each of them had tried to save
But this one had a spark, he had a will and he tried
Letting go of circumstance, they saw what he had inside
And it was giving
He was now in a group home surrounded by hardest ones of his age
Traps all around to trip him up, and the others filled with rage
Used and sold drugs, even committed crimes
And among were some who'd even served time
While he was running
A natural, he was, at running the track and encouraged he was by a coach
The boy came to run a meet last week and brought with him a rose
His mother was coming, first she'd see him run
And his joyful face was brighter than the sun
And he was hoping
If one day you might happen to see a whirl wind flying by
Know he ran his best, though his untouched rose wilted and died
Even so, he's running.
Snap!
Ian, you are so funny.
And the TU is mine, Darlin', but you can't tell me anything I haven't freely and frequently admitted. ROTF
Ronnie, was a mouse trap that went off...
Aw, Debra, 'Nobby Girl' made me crack up - as my knees are sorta...that. What a precious girl you are!
My brother gave the boy a book called, 'The Seven Habits of Highly-Effective People'. As school counselor in an economically-depressed area, he knows too many children are not being parented as well as they could be. He has instituted a similar program school-wide from k-12, and the results are astonishing. This young man has virtually only himself to rely upon; he has many choices before him, many roads he could take. With all his disappointments, something within him still wants the right direction. He seems to hero-worship my brother (who cried while telling me his story), and never fails to thank him at the end of every practice and every meet. He's the only one on the team who does that.
Out of your ashes, Dallas, Fredo, so many of you, flies the Phoenix. You survived the sorrows of your youth and chose to turn off the roads upon which you were once abandoned. It's time for you to soar! luvs, bg
New friend, nice to meet you. All answers deserve a BA (you too, Nigel). Thank you so much.