Farewells
In Max's eyes there is no joy.
Not normal for a ten year boy.
It's a sight that I before have seen.
But ten weeks has ended fleeting dream.
…
Bus is here, it's time to leave.
Tries to hide it, but see him grieve.
Of Camp Campbell said he couldn't stand.
But he made some friends, a merry band.
…
I can see that he's now loathe to go.
Although he'd never tell me so.
Perhaps he will not miss this place.
But to loveless home, no urge to race.
…
I know this camp's not paradise.
But I've always tried to make things nice.
That, he might appreciate.
But won't ever reciprocate.
…
I hope he can see his life through.
Him, and all the others too.
But Campbell, it will remain here.
And hey, there's always the next year.
