There sat a boy in class with me,

with red Beats that hung around his neck,

he'd never take notes in class,

but he'd self learn from the textbook instead.

 

He'd put on his headphones,

and crack up the volume,

lost in his own little world.

But from what I saw yesterday,

I think he's lost in another way.

 

He was good spirited, a little annoying

but don't most guys like that act that way?

No indication that he was a bit amiss

No sign that he was....one of those people.

 

Chris. That was his name.

It was only familiar my the phrase "Oh, Chris!"

that fell upon my ear so many times during Alg II.

He seemed like any other teen.

He seemed.

 

On the corner of the grocery store,

we drove by without much thought

And out of the corner of my eye,

a speck of red,

not of the Christmas red and green,

but of the familiar scarlet Beats.

 

A group of males.

Together, but casually standing in a distorted circle.

A cigarette in his hand.

A puff of smoke from his lips.

An anger in my heart.

 

I expected many things from Chris;

to joke around, to playfully annoy a teacher or two.

But not this, not the cigarette.

 

I felt an unbelievable amount of rage.

But it quickly subdued, like the cooling of an angry boiling pot.

And then I felt...sadness.

 

This was the boy who liked to get lost in his music.

But this is the boy who got lost in his choices.