Thunder

As the thunder streaks across the sky,
illuminating patches of land with its light.
muffling with its boom , the child's cry,
a tiny figure holding on to the tree, tight.

tears, mixing with the rain, stream down his face,
small eyes, spread wide in fear.
Underage player, casualty of the rat race,
separated, from loving ones he holds dear.

Frightened faces in the windows show their worry,
bold words and a conscience long buried.
with oppressed souls they say their sorry,
leaving the crying mother and the father worried.

They sent him out, knowing the storm was coming,
sent him far to hold him closer.
the world is dull and the birds arent singing,
they stand and wait for him to return home a winner.

The boy is quiet, he cries no longer,
his silence speaking more than words.
he'l learn to master his fear,his anguish harder,
the thunder made him as sharpened as a sword.