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February 3, 1969, Fifth Grade Homeroom
[for Blandy and Dandy Drone]
Fog shrouded morning's news: Karloff has died.
Just ten years old, then, I wept bitterly.
Classmates at school made mirthful mockery
or glibly questioned my sincerity.
In their opinion: having not known him,
such grief as I felt was merely a whim.
How could a man, who had played to such fears,
deserve some random child's sniffles and tears?
Relentless laughter from them; but why annoyed
were they at emotion I could not avoid?
The cruelty younger people can design
is worse than monsters made by Frankenstein.
Starward
[jlc]
