Obea

One year, we had a new boy in my elementary school,
With the unusual name Obea.

At a school fair, the cotton candy ran out
And he smiled and offered his to me.

That may have been the only time we spoke.
Our circles didn’t coincide much.

But this I remember:
He was fast.

We fifth graders cheered as he handily beat all comers.
He was our champion, our class celebrity.

Seven years later, I found an article about him
In a national magazine.

He still holds the World Youth Best record in the 400.
We all hoped for good things.

But then reports trickled in about his SAT scores,
His ineligibility for college.

Two decades later, the internet allows easy voyeurism:
Injury, depression, expulsion, panic attacks, alcohol.

I think of that sunny day and our cheers,
His smile as he offered cotton candy,

And I wish his life had played out differently.