________ FREDDIE GRAY _________

(A Parody of Wordsworth’s Lucy Gray)

Oft we have heard of Freddie Gray,

And, when we crossed the town,

We chanced to see at break of day

His blood still raining down.

No mate, no comrade Freddie knew;

He lurks forevermore, ––

A sadder apparition few

Will see in Baltimore!

Oh you may spy the Dregs at play,

With Crack and Coke obscene;

But the tortured face of Freddie Gray

Will never more be seen.

“To-night the monkey on my back,

Says downtown you must go,

And take my pipe to fill with crack

To pushers with my dough.”

“That, Mother! Will I gladly do;

‘Tis not long after noon ––

The Hopkins Clock has just struck two,

You’ll get your pipe filled soon.”

At this the Mother roared and shook,

Then snapped out what she’d planned

“Begone and quick,” so Freddie took

The Meerschaum in his hand.

And hither towards the dens of vice;

With many a wanton stroke

Poor Freddie took his Ma’s advice,

He knew it was no joke.

But riots rose before their time,

As Freddie wandered down,

And many hills did Freddie climb

To reach the flaming town.

The wretched mother all that night

Kept cursing loud and vile;

But there was no one wrong or right

To neutralize her bile.

At day-break by his door she stood,

Peered towards the Inner Harbor;

And in a looking glass saw she should

Visit soon a barber.

Dejected now she turned, and cried

"I hope in Heaven we’ll meet!"

As on the pavement she espied

The print of Freddie's feet.

Then downward from the steep hill's edge

She tracked the footprints small;

Right to the edge of a stone ledge,

Atop a high stone-wall;

And then an open lot she cross'd,

With cans and bottles strewn;

She tracked the prints, nor ever lost,

Until it was high noon.

She followed through the cursed spots

Until she reached an alley,

A place of many dried blood clots

Deep in a Shadowed Valley.

Poor Freddie’s footprints disappear'd 

He ne’er was seen again

Though many said they greatly feared

He’d died in screaming pain.

Yet some maintain that to this day

He is a living Child,

That you may see poor Freddie Gray

His body undefiled.

Through Baltimore he trips along,

In sunshine rain and wind;

And hums a plaintive little song

Denying he has sinned.

~ FreeThinke