Menu Home

They Call Him Joe

They called him Joe

He always sat alone

But when a friend was needed

Joe’s compassion came unheeded


Joe always walked quite quickly

Moving from place to place

But one day Joe looked quite sickly

Losing all his grace


Now the school steps in

The call rises high

They notify every parent

While Joe starts to die


He’s only eight years old

The news screams aloud

Why won’t you help poor Joe

The movement starts now


But what they all fail to see

Is poor Joe’s malady

His sickness can’t abate

For it simply stems from hate


Now poor Joe is dead and gone

But the news still hasn’t won

They need to spread his legend

While not knowing about his heaven


For Joe helped those in need

When the one in most need was he

For his father couldn’t stop

From giving him a pop


But sensationalism doesn’t care

About how Joe parted his hair

Or the way he could see

When someone was in need


It’s about what you post on your feed

Thumbs up is down to me

For people like poor Joe

Who just wanted to grow


Categories: Poetry Uncategorized

Tagged as:


I'm a high school English teacher in Texas. I also hold degrees in radiography and radio and television broadcasting. Though I obtained certain knowledge and skills from my prior degrees, I do not currently use them.

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: