They called him names and some would laugh
He was different, and they were a bit scared
Yet when he walked along the street
It was as if he couldn’t have cared.
It was the Fifties, an unsophisticated time
He was clumsy, and sometimes looked into space
But his smile had that kind of innocence
You only see on a Down Syndrome face.
He grew up in pain with a twisted foot too
Which made his gait odd for to see
But we got along fine like the friends that we were
My noble young friend, him and me.
He lived with his mother, no dad to be found
Inseparable, they were a great team
My friend and his mum tried to get him a job
For that was his biggest ever dream.
They managed to get him a post helping out
Moving boxes and trolleys at the store
He did it for years with that smile on his face
Said he felt proud when he left his front door.
But his heart was quite weak and his lungs not too good
By thirty he was struggling to breathe
He passed away peacefully at just thirty-two
And I and his friends all quietly grieve.
For Tim it was a full life, one he’d enjoyed
And why not, he was like you and me!
He just made the best of the things that he had
And was the best he could possibly be.
I miss my friend often, so many years have now passed
His nobility made him special in ways
That so many people mistakenly read
For it was kindness they saw in his gaze.
©Joe Wilson – My friend Tim…2015
2 thoughts on “My friend Tim…”
A beautiful tribute that broke my heart twice, as I went back and reread.
Thank you Elisa, he was a fine man. I ws just thinking of him and it just popped into my head. xx