A Story Sad, but True
Stuart Blum (Friend since 1st grade)
I think about it all the time, the words that I would say.
If Stuart Blum should somehow die, some quick and sudden way.
How it was, he’d be remembered. How it was that he was livin’.
And this is the result, from which, my long hard thought I’d given.
I speak about our grade school days. Our evening mater raids.
About our young and foolish deeds. Our devilish charades.
Remembering young Stuart, when he used to have a smile.
He used to have a good one, just ain’t seen it in a while.
I’d dwell on all the fun we had while growing up so tight.
Together doing karate, almost each and every night.
Going thru all the changes that have led to his sad end.
Missing who I used to know—who used to be my friend.
We partied young together. That was, both, our bad mistake.
How were we to know that Stuart’s life, it’d one day take.
How all my recent memories were ones of sad despair.
How Stuart wouldn’t budge an inch, for those who chose to care.
It hurts me, to see someone, who had such potential, fail.
The guy, thru most of grade school, who’d become my closest pal.
To live his life so miserably. A life of loss and shame.
To think he could have done so much, instead he smudged his name.
I’d like to say, I still recall, the day that Stuart quit,
His drinking was his problem, he did, finally, admit.
The day he took control of it and swore it off for good.
I always knew that Stuart could have done it if he would.
I’d like to brag of how his life, completely, turned around
How his own elusive happiness was finally, truly found.
How work was blessed, by God, for him. A job where he fit in.
A life redeemed, found free of guilt, from all those years of sin.
How hard he worked to get ahead, and get ahead he did.
How he found a girl, just right for him. How they even had a kid.
How he won the struggling battle with the bottle which, long, nursed him.
How he pulled away from Satan and the life of which he’d cursed him.
Like me and many others, who all pray for Stuart’s choices.
Our total disappointments far outweigh our glad rejoices.
The words I’d hoped to write this day, would only be a lie.
Instead I have to tell the truth. That Stuart wouldn’t try.
I still recall the heartfelt talks. How I could not get thru.
How Stuart couldn’t give a crap, for anything I’d do.
How much he seemed ungrateful and his attitude so bitter.
The phrase, I guess, that sums it up, was “Stuart was a quitter.”
The path he chose to follow, took my long and closest friend.
And brought our lifelong friendship to a sad and sorry end.
The pain that he instilled in me, thru all his thoughtless actions.
Had finally got too much to bear—which led to my reactions.
I tried so hard. I really did. To bring him back to life.
I spoke of hope! Of work! Of wheels! Perhaps someday a wife.
He couldn’t see my vision thru his cloud of boozed despair.
One thing he can’t deny me of. Of showing Stuart care!
How hard it was to watch him, as he threw his life away.
How hard it was to bear the words, so negative he’d say.
How sad to see the hoplessness in what was his to solve.
Who Stuart was, so long ago, to what he did evolve.
This bitter, angry, lonely soul, who’d suffered so much pain.
Embarrassed by his shameful acts, whose mem’ries will remain.
One thing that I can say ‘bout him, the traits which most could see.
That Stuart had potential! If you knew him, you’d agree.
God gave him special features. He was handsomer than most.
God made him very humble. It was seldom he would boast.
He had a warm and tender spot, beneath his calloused skin.
Found trouble in exposing it. His feelings, deep within.
When he could keep him sober, he would work as good as any.
Good things to speak of Stuart. Like the bad I have so many.
I play the tape of Stuart’s life. The way the tape might end.
I write this poem, with hopes to touch, my lost and dying friend.
To give some inspiration of the life that he might make.
How urgent that he come to terms. Control, he finally take.
Before this dismal message, that it is that I am sending.
Ends just the way it does right now—without a happy ending.