Surviving

Feeling the warmth of the sun on a cloudy day. A glimpse into a blind billy goat's unique, ever changing perspectives.

2016 04 24 Poetry: Ember April 24, 2016

As a child, I found things much simpler than I did as I grew older. The innocence of a young boy didn’t follow me too long into my teenage years though, as outside influence began to dictate what I was influenced by, and who I became. Now don’t get me wrong, because I was in no way a perfect specimen to begin with, or ever.

I guess we’re all pre-wired to act and react a certain way, which is unique to us, and us alone. Where one person may excel, another might wobble and fall over, completely caught up with inhibitions that others might not begin to be able to understand.

And there I was, staring at my teenage years, but also staring at a young man in the mirror that I didn’t really care for, and increasingly became unfamiliar with. An adolescent goat, caught up in a world of social acceptance that hit me by surprise and from what I could gather, didn’t give me a chance.

Ya I know, a teenage pity party on a dead end street. There were no good excuses for me, as it was of my own construction. I let others dictate what I felt about myself, and boy did that catch up to me.

By the time those teenage years were in full swing, my inhibitions were searching for acceptance from my peers, and one way I could see to gain that acceptance was through the use of drugs. They seemed to help me fit in, and they also helped me to cope with the stares and whispers and nasty comments, for I was an ugly duckling that, from what I could see, stood no chance of turning into a swan. I was in a perpetual state of duck, and duck I did, from every normal form of growth that came along. I ducked and ran to my new friend, drug addiction, and what a friend it was, or so I thought.

Addiction promised me one thing, and delivered something totally different. It handed me a new world, but then it took it all away. Not just the new world, but my old world as well. My friend turned out to be a maniacal, clever, selfish son of a bitch, and when it was all said and done, I stood there, naked, stripped clean, afraid and all alone.

The following poem is reflective of that snapshot of my life. The ups, the downs, the change of heart and the detour of a spirit caught up in a nightmare unlike any other.

This is the 24th day of April, so this makes this poem the, um, let’s see, carry the two, bring down the, ok then, this is the 24th poem of the month.

This is National Poetry Month, and I want to thank you for your support, your inspiration and I hope that this finds you all in the middle of a fine day.

Take care, and God bless.

Dp

***

Ember
A Poem by DP Lyons

There once was a boy looking back from a mirror.
His crew cut hair and dirty cheeks captured the entire image.
A more perfect reflection could have never been dreamed.
A freer spirit could have never been born.

Passions formed.
Inspiration found its home.
Agility and ability set themselves in motion.
Guidance became piece of mind as a boy continued to grow.

As teen years went by, inhibitions, doubt and a blurred perception slowly settled in.
The reflected image looking back began speaking in strange tongues.
The young boy grew up, and the boyish smile turned down.
Glaring Stares and haunting taunts weighed heavy on a trusting heart.

The harder he looked, the further he fell away from the mirror.
Reflections became a silent enemy.
Praise from family drifted away along an unsettled wind.
The passions of a boy fell prey to a relentless foe.

Sight of mind devastated the visions of the heart.
Altered voices waged war with a searching soul.
A chosen drug became an unexpected friend.
Savored promises slowly delivered a narrowed path of destruction.

The heart grew quiet.
The spirit drifted away.
The passions of a boy became the neglected memories of a man.
A world fell completely apart.

Darkness settled in.
Pain and anguish became an unwanted tenant.
A hopeful contender became a ravaged, hollowed heart.
Battered, bruised and beaten, the light grew dim, and died.

Along a changing wind, a lone ember flickers with life.
Fueled by unconditional love, a flame begins to grow.
A young boy’s heart begins to mend.
A young man’s soul begins to heal.

An unfamiliar reflection shyly looks back from the mirror,
And begins to smile.

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