On the last week of third grade,

All of what we knew came to fade.

Our blue sky had turned to gray.

We were told that he would never see another day.

Who knew that life could be this short?

We were told that his family went on a trip to Disneyland,

When a group of teenagers drove with three sheets to the wind’s might.

We were told that it was an impact that he could not withstand.

A child’s life, in that moment, became a fight.

Most of the kids I knew had only known the pain of a bruise.

Who would have guessed that we would be the ones on the news?

A young boy who only wanted to meet Buzz Lightyear,

Had lost his life due to a quick steer.

He was only eight,

When heaven opened it’s gate.

A child with autism who was never understood—

But I guess not everyone could.

There his bullies stood, with yellow balloons,

Looking up at the sky, as if speaking to the moons.

We let go of the strings of those yellow balloons,

And with them, let go of the strings of our childhood.