Born the star

of of a parent's night.

Given love, rest

and all that's right.

He's off to school

every day

confident in

mem'ry's flight.

Friends made

and lost

through curls of time:

this little boy

has learned to cry.

The star burns out

in sad regret

The friendships, now,

are all just spent.

his old playmates

will not repent.

The days, and weeks, and years go by

more gangs,

more drugs,

more sadden'd eyes.

That little boy

is still left out-

punished for

his devout

adherence to

adulthood's rules.

But he begins to doubt those, too.

The question is:

will he keep

the rules stuck by,

or turn his back on life,

and grab a knife?

He can't defect, that's for sure.

He'd be attacked

more than before.

I wonder, reader,

how men of yore

would respond

to a "quality tour"

of world life.

Why must that boy decide?

The End

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