The Long-Haired Boy

There was a boy in our town with long hair —

I mean really long hair —

And everybody pointed at him

And laughed at him

And made fun of him.

And when he walked down the street

The people would roar

And stick their tongues out

And make funny faces

And run in and slam their door

And shout at him from the window

Until he couldn’t stand it anymore.

So he sat down and cried

Till his whole body shook,

And pretty soon his hair shook too,

And it flapped

And flapped —

And he lifted —

And flew —

Where Smokey was painting, he almost had a

Heart attack — he clung to a rafter.

The kid flew on —

Us runnin’ after,

Cheering and sweating

And screaming, “Hooray!”

Mayor Lowry shouted, “Hey —

Come down here, kid. We’d like to say

How proud of you we are today.

Who ever thought our little

Town would have a hero in it?

So I’d like to proclaim this day — hey, kid!

Will you please come down for just a minute?”

But the flying kid did not come down.

He treaded air above the town,

Sort of cryin’ and looking down

At all of us here on the ground.

Then up he flew, up into the clouds,

Flapping and flying so far and high,

Out past the hills and into the sky

Until a tiny speck against the sun

Was all we could see of him… then he was gone.