Ok so it's not a story, but so what: Mr Somebody Soon

About a boy. Perhaps soon a man. Conflicted poetry/play styling; almost a play within a poem. Tells of 4 prodominant and crucial turning points in the life of a teenager. Maybe some can relate, and if not then a light I hope to shine upon the eyes of those who have not experienced or come across such a delicate subject. That of the struggle for parental acceptance and love. A very personal poem. Enjoy!

Wild winds and a bordered house - gates, rusty, swinging;

Struggle and ask "Why, who, what and where?"

The man trembled, locked in, boxed in, full of fear,

Panic; how it grows manic "Can he even hear?"


"Queer, Bent and Wretch!"... School bell rings,

 Bounce, bounce, bounce: the sound of word bullets.

Still, better than that. The home of Dragons.

Bite! Snap! A slip of the hand and crimson tears run. Fast.


 Scene one: A bath and a door shut tight

"Don't come in. Don't come in!"

Blushing white, gushing red, promises, false in his head

Mother dragon: "Oh, what you have done. Who are you? But not my son"


Scene two: Similar, different all the same. Someone there; you know his name

 Called him Child, Witch and Fake. Dust him with their mind mud stake

"Where are they? How do these pale faces roam?

Enter me, let me be. One of you? I call to thee.


" Scene three: A cemetery and an old picture, frayed.

"Where is she? Who is she? That which breathes such transparent fires,

Giving sight through blackest bile, showing faces. Such revile"

 Five points and a circle, candles, book and bell. A woman comes, Sister, Mother? almost.


Scene four: "The last time, I swear, I'm sorry. I promise, I do, I promise"

He lies through his happy white teeth, seeping out through Rosy skin.

A white van and a stretcher, "No need, self inflicted, stitches? Only a few"

Heart in hand, mind: flustered. "Cassie? Faith? Phoebe? only madness knows."


An empty room, white, smudged, not mine. "Sit, unpack, make yourself at home"

Missing... isn't something missing: Songs tweet of No Happily Ever Afters and Snow White Queens.

Different now; the clock hand turns, warm, melted, swirls into spring.

Gone, not forgotten. A new dawn, a new day; a new life for me.

The End

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