November 12, 2015


When I was nine I learned survival
Taught myself not to care,
I was my single good companion
Taking my comfort there.

Up in my room I planed my conquests,
On my own, never asked for a helping hand.
No one would understand.

I never asked the pair who fought below
Just in case they'd said 'no'.

Pity the child who has ambition
Knows what he wants to do
Knows that he'll never fit the system
Others expect him to

Pity the child who knew his parents
Saw their faults,
saw their love die before his eyes
Pity the child that wise

He never asked 'did I cause your distress'
Just in case they say 'yes'.

When I was twelve my father moved out,
Left with a whimper not with a shout.
I didn't miss him, he made it perfectly clear
I was a fool an probably queer.

Fool that I was I thought this would bring
Those he had left closer together
But she made a move the moment he crawled away

I was the last the woman told
She never let her bed get cold
Someone moved in I shot my door
Someone to treat her just the same way as before

I took the road of least resistance
I had my game to play
I had the skills and more the hunger
Easy it to get away

Pity the child with no such weapons
No defense no escape
From the time to fight
Always a step behind

I never called to tell her all I've done
I was only her son

Pity the child but not forever
Not if he stays that way
He can get all he ever wanted
If he's prepared to pay

Pity it's bold to tell his mother
What she missed, what she lost
When she let me go
I wonder does she know

I wouldn't call, a crazy thing to do
Just in case she said 'who?'

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