Smoke rises from his shining brow,

Filling the room with Death’s breath.

Gun metal,

Hot, infuriated

Lies beside his gray, still hand.

His parents never loved him.

The kids at school made fun of him.

He was picked last for baseball.

His glasses,

A scratch running across the right lens,

The thick black frames,

Crooked and chewed at the ends,

Rest neatly folded beside a letter.

The letter simply states,

“No more.”

Gray and red ooze onto the linoleum floor,

Spattered with black,

His face shines.

The hole in his forehead releases

A tiny drop of life.

Now he’s a statistic,

A number.

He ran away.


One thought

  1. Came across this, and it is interesting. I know you probably have no relation what so ever to Bradley Edward Delp. But I have this to say. When I was just 11. And the year was 1975. I had to wear those black ugly glasses. And was THE most picked on kid in school. The most bullied. And suffered all types of abuse. Had a abusive, narcissistic cruel, and also quite intelligent stepfather. And after my friend Eric died from leukemia, I decided one day. And it was the day I had gotten hit so hard, on the bus ride home, that day my friend died. Hit so hard my glasses went flying out the window, making the driver send me to the ditch to find them. With the entire load of kids laughing, spitting at me down there. But that day I had decided it was going to end. Everything was going to end, and I was going to join my friend. Nothing seemed real anymore, and at the time it felt like there was no other way out of it. Believe me, as I say this, and it is ABSOLUTELY the truth. I had decided to take this thing I had made, Brad called it, “That thing with wings” Up to the cliff out in the woods, at the stone quarry, which was next to the hunting cabin, that was owned by Richard Thomas. And I took it up there on a little red wagon. And had decided I was going to have to run hard, since there was no wind that day. And I at least wanted to have the feeling of flying, even for just a minute, before it ended. And on that third and last time, running to the cliff. Suddenly this voice came screaming out, from below. “DOOOONTTT JUUMPPP”!!! And to make a long story short, I met that guy, the next day. Along with his drunken friend Fran Sheehan. But that kind guy’s name was just so happened to be Bradley Edward Delp. And I DID actually hear him say his full name that day. Right after his drunken friend came up the hill shouting to us, “Hesss BRADD from BOWSTONNN”! And then proceeded to get right up in his face. Which finally made Brad finally turn and look back at him, in the eyes. after a minute of not looking at him. And finally say that full name to him. When I later asked him what his friend meant by that, he just said to me, “It’s nothing, its just a band im in”. And went and picked up a piece of large shale, after looking down the hill to see if his friend was finally gone. And looking at the fern fossils with him, after that. He told me, with absolute and complete amazement, “Just imagine….This was once a living thing”. Long story short…. He became my friend, and later he spoke with me about the cliff, the day before. And he had a tear in his eye when he did that. Some days or so later, he showed up at the end of the driveway with a yellow Volkswagen, and left this beautiful dog for me, with my stepfather. Who by the way, only reluctantly accepted it. And quite rudely too. THEN the next day my stepfather had that beautiful dog killed. Taken to the hill where he showed me the fossils, and was as they put it:” We ran it up the hill and shot it”. ALSO the same day he left that first dog, I followed him to the cabain to thank him, and he ended up breaking his hand. Protecting me that day. Believe me I cant make this stuff up. I am not that smart. Some weeks later another small dog appeared on the back porch when I got home form school. Small with big eyes, and grey like. I think it was my older sister who came by from the garden with hot radishes and fed it one. And laughed as it tried to eat it. And said to me, “It looks like a Chi Chi, lets call it a Chi Chi. But of course, just as soon as my stepfather came home, he had it killed. Had my brother take it to the woods and shoot it. And of course they laughed and made fun of how it looked when they did that…. Last year I contacted Micki Delp, along with my wife on her FB chat. And she told us, Brad had given TWO dogs once to a farm in Pa back before they married. A retriever and a chichuchaa. And I had only asked her about the first one. And did tell my wife he DID drive the yellow bug back then. You should have seen the look on my wifes face as she read that message. I had to repress this all for over 41 years. Even thou I did name my first born daughter, Holly Ann, after the song of the time. I never told my wife of everything that happened. She did however know of the two dogs that were killed. But not WHY he gave them, or WHO it was. Like who the hell would believe a story like that???? And just so you know. EVERY word said, and event that happened the day I met Brad, just so happened. “Coincidentally” end up in that song, Hitch a Ride. I say it “Coincidentally” because I have no way what so ever of proving it. But I know what was said. Things like, “It looks like smoke swirling around down inside there” That Brad said while starring down in that spring well that had the cement box built around it,. That my stepfather would not let them “Drink of the water” as he put it. What he said at the fossils.. And how I took him to the small birch trees, and had him pull off a piece of bark and chew it. Telling him, take a piece of this bark and chew it, it tastes just like root beer. All of which happened EXACTLY in reverse as sung on that song. And the thing I had shown him just before he did that thing he did, by starring down at it, after drooping it to the ground, one finger at a time. That thing that you wind up, from a stuffed animal, that made only four notes, before it quit. Which “Coincidentally” were the same exact four notes in the intro to that song as well. Then there is that Fran Sheehan interview he did once, just google Fran Sheehan interview, it is with And in it he mentioned the broken hand incident with his friend, only naming him by his last name. wow what a real friend, lol. And names the drunken drummer in the group Spring Rain as the one he got into it with. And by the way I seen him that day it took place, Sheehann WAS there. Spring—-Winter Freeze—Rain Gonna crack this ice and fly….That boy with the thing with wings, that was suddenly frozen still up there, when he heard the voice scream to him. Way too many coincidences there. And Brad was absolutely the palest and whitest person I have ever seen before. Apparently he was never getting any sun, and probably was there to get some sun. And enjoy nature. And now he was not there to hunt. Sheehan made a joke of his Red Sox hat he had on. The one with the stockings in the center of the patch on it. Saying s he came up to me, and put his hand on my shoulder. Just after he did that thing, by getting up in his face. Saying to me, “Just look at this guy, just look at him…We all were cammo to come to the hunting cabin, and he wears the Red Hat…Something about him not wanting to harm the animals isn’t it”? And then Brad suddenly looking relieved, coming over and saying, “Yeah, you know I don’t want to harm the animals”. By the way also, that day at the cliff, when Brad screamed to me, don’t jump. RIGHT after that Sheehan yelled out, “Jump”! to me, and was kind of laughing at the time. no doubt was drink then also. Making Brad once again scream out, “NO!!!DONT JUMP, Don’t Do it”!!! Then to his friend I heard him say, “Shut up, whats the matter with you”. And apparently he told Micki it didn’t happen,. Because just as soon as I told her he was there, she cut off all communication, and completely blocked me from facebook. I cant ever look her up, or anything… Now why would I say he was there, if he wasn’t? Knowing full well that he was living like a block away from Barry and her sister? Brads friend David Cross ,had already told me that before he put me in touch with Micki…..Incredible story I know. And I doubt anyone will believe it, but I swear it is the absolute truth. One day I hope to speak with his first wife “Kathy” and put an end to those in my family who want me to forget about it all. And act like I am delusional, and made it all up, lol No doubt she knows EXACTLY where he was when he broke his hand, on Macklin Rd, off a The Greenville Pike at that cabin in Pa, that was owned by Richard Norman Thomas. Who now I do have reason to believe was related to Donald Thomas. Or as every one else knows him by as, “Tom Schulz”. Thank you, and I did love the poem. I would write one named Spring Rain. And in it use the words, of pain, and the emptiness that remains. Up that hill ,where the trees stood still… And the tear was shed, by the one who was humble and kind. Who will forever, live on. In my heart and in my mind. And I remember how he waved goodbye to me that day. By putting his hand up to his head. Possibly to his heart first. But definitely to his head, then back down, as a way of waving back to me.


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