In the darkest of corners,
In the depths of my mind,
There is a young boy called Callum,
Not yet distinguished or defined,
He is free,
From the punishment of age,
He is innocent and pure
With his happiness yet to be caged,
I try talking to him,
But he doesn’t answer back,
I apologise to him every single day,
For the way I live and act,
I make stupid decisions daily,
Why? …. Just because,
And I know he would be ashamed of me,
If he knew what judgement was,
I live a wreck less and selfish life,
Drinking, drugging and smoking it away,
And losing myself and who I am,
Is the punishment I pay,
All I have is a memory,
Of that little boy that was me,
I got his hopes and dreams and locked them in a cage,
Never again to be free,
I stole his future,
And sold it for pain,
I stole everything he had,
And only left him his name,
I put him on trial,
Just to see him suffer,
He gave me a chance of a good life,
And my ignorance made it tougher,
I stole away his youth,
And then I blamed him,
And I even risked his life,
And gambled it on a whim,
I reach out for him sometimes,,
But I seem to be getting further and further away,
And as I get older with age,
He dies a little more each day,
Me, age and life,
Will end up killing the child in me,
And we will drink from the so called cup of glory,
And dance in the debris,
I won’t realise the mistake I made,
Until it’s too late,
I made a fool from this child,
When he wanted me to be great,
His pure little heart,
Will turn black with pain,
And all the innocence he had,
Will all die in vain,
I know this innocent child will perish,
But when, that I don’t know,
But what I don’t care to realise or understand,
Is that the child in me died many years ago.

Wrote on: 30/04/2023