The Choice

As we grow from boy to man,
And when we’re still in school,
We are given opportunities
To be kind or be cruel.

To stand up for a bullied kid
Or join the taunting crowd.
To keep our hurtful words inside
Or shout them right out loud.

A lad can be forgiven
If he sometimes plays the fool
And steals some cheap attention
By doing something cruel.

But if that boy has any heart
He will begin to soften.
He might still be a jerk sometimes,
But thankfully, not often.

And gradually he makes the choice
His elders hoped he would,
To reject abject selfishness
And try to do some good.

A classmate goes the other way
And choosing to resent,
He glorifies his hatred
And becomes president.

  • Jim Hagarty

Author: Jim Hagarty

I am a 72-year-old retired journalist, busy recovering from a lifelong career as an unretired journalist. This year marks a half century of my scratching out little fables about life. My interests include genealogy, humour and music. I live in a little blue shack in Canada and spend most of my time trying to stay out of trouble. I am not that good at it. I also spent years teaching journalism. Poor state of journalism today: My fault. I have a family I don't deserve, a dog that adores me, and two cars the junk yard refuses to accept. My prized possessions include my old guitar and a razor my Dad gave me when I was 14 and which I still use when I bother to shave. Oh, and my great-great-grandfather's blackthorn stick he brought from Ireland in the 1850s. I have only one opinion but it is a good one: People take too many showers.