His name was Brad, a clever lad,
He learned to read and write from his dad.
He read a book when he was seven,
Was an expert chess player at eleven!
Yes, Brad was a healthy, beautiful boy,
As a teenager he brought the women joy;
They fell for his blue eyed innocent stare,
And the tactile softness of his long blond hair.
Brad's body was strong, his mind was keen
From his aura grace and generosity gleemed
He was a gentle lad, who could not kill a roach,
His social graces were beyond reproach.
Brad lived his life within a dream,
Through his youthful stature adore beamed.
He could perform miracles galore,
But there was something inside seeking more!
Aspiring for something more than he had;
Venturing beyond happiness to more & more glad!
He depended on substances to bring delight,
Distorting his perception of wrong and right.
Hazy reality put deception in life's game,
But, everyone loved him just the same.
Cheer and joy he shared with his friends:
This fervor for life brought on his untimely end
His mind so inventive, his wit so quick,
He found illicit ways to get his kicks.
He wanted drugs, money, and peer approval,
So, he'd break in and secure their removal
At the age of eighteen he out witted them all,
Thousands of dollars were at his beckon call
He was addicted to generosity, giving to friends,
Watch out He might steal it back again.
Where did he get all those drugs he sold?
Uppers and downers obtained by being bold.
And all those bad checks that he wrote,
Thousands of dollars bounced up his throat.
How did he get that brand new car?
Was it stolen or bought from a far?
The mysterious keys to newspaper racks?
Deceiving his mother distorting the facts.
Lying, crying, sympathy buying,
All the time inside he was dying
Not able to cope with his desires,
Holding inside blistering fires
Often, I think about Brad, my good friend,
Recalling in memory his untimely end.
Mystery haunts me, these illusion smeared years,
Truth seems weird- oh: my guilt and fears
His car was found on the bridge- smashed
His wallet and I.D. was left on the dash.
What ever happen? I've seen him no more,
The rest is conjecture, legend, and lore.
Some say he faked it and went undercover,
`He's alive in Peru'', said his ex-lover.
The police report says suicide,
A disturbed adolescent's way to hide.
Others say murder, violent death's steam,
Or that into a star ship he was beamed.
In my mind there is only wonder and doubt,
To lose your best friend and to be faked out.
Rumors, and tales, year after year,
Of Brad being seen seems awfully queer.
What happened to this confused boy of eighteen
Nothing's left but questions, deceptions & dreams.