Monday, 21 September 2015

I’m not the same, or am I ?

Life's like a dungeon as far as I recall from a very young age to the moment we are tall, trapped by the rules and wants and despised as a fool.

The medicine was a spanking in the very first week, only five years old some warmth I would seek,  it taught me not to cry for mum, to be silent and meek.

Alone in my childhood life I craved to be liked, do anything for friends even steal a bike, rub mud on the walls for someone called Mike but never really had friends 
Never knew what it was like.

Secondary years came along I would often feel sick every day was hell to get a lot of stick bullied for being quiet and often afraid, the cane and the children felt the bloody same. 

I remembered junior school with a fondness now, I learnt quite well though I did not know how.

secondary school interestingly fun for a lark, two years of hell from a boy called mark, at 13 years old after a fight it lit a fuse so to create a spark I would often bunk off and go to the park.

If your the kind of person that doesn't fit in, believe in me when I say it's not a sin
a burden you'll feel forever and a day
At least you'll have independent thoughts and be happy that way.

I'll not follow a crowd, not be one of the pack, I'll take a lot of hardship but eventually fight back, I'm caught in the web of deception, not afraid of hard work but then there's not a day goes by where responsibility will I shirk.

One hope that I wish to leave behind, is that I love my children, was considerate and kind, if you cannot be good then at least not be blind. 



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