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Poem

Idle lamentations for the brackish days of youth when the mystic thought queried upon
green or grey as a childhood day.
 When horrific forces churned away at the mold and turned a sweetened lad from gilded to
beguiled.
 When the touch of the cruel master bent wood upon the ears of innocence, when it’s
underling laid its phallic touch upon unspent youth and twisted the being, confuting love
for darker ambitions.
 There came a release from the imposition of unwanted instruction, yet there had been no
guidance in the world so how could adolescence behave?
 Would you have been there had you known?
 Creation came of a twisted future relying on the teachings of the dark and clouded days,
when the rest of the world looked down upon the performance of the one who longed for
acceptance.
Now came the companionship longing to be proven right, ‘how could this be?’ they cried and
again plunged youth into darkness, not offering guidance accepting only compliance.
Again, the darkness passed, the light shone, and youth rose like a seed alone and untended
to become the flower it had been born to be.
‘ I will not break in the breeze, I will outlive the darkness and create none more’, was
cried.
So the twisting of souls and fates were refrained to this very day, where one verse at a
time begins to precipitate.

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