Poet #Eleven

I was drivin' my here taxi
Home, on a warm May night,
When a little kid flagged me down
Just barely in my sight.

He said he needed a ride home,
But claimed to have not a pound.
I saw him cold, teeth chatterin',
So I took him anyhow.

When I asked him what his name was
His reply was quite sad,
My name is Derek, I was named
By dearly missed Mom and Dad.

I'm sorry for your loss, I said,
When did your parents go?
He gave me a weird kinda look
And said, "Their still at home!

What do you mean? My parents aren't dead.
It's quite hard to explain.
I see them every single day
But it's not really the same."

His stop had come, my head was full,
He said, Good bye, good night.
As he left, I wondered about
Him, as he left my sight.

The next morning, I found, in the car,
His dark maroon jacket.
I drove to his house that morning
To go and return it.

I stood on his doorstep, and knocked,
His dad opened the door,
I said, Derek left his jacket
On my taxi floor.

They started, and asked, Good God, When?
Last night, I said, Here it is.
Young man, you must be mistaken,
Derek died last Christmas.

The End

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