The prompt over at dVerse is Wild, so here is what wild means to me. Based on a true story, with a tad of poetic licence here and there.
Born, the third son of the three,
The black sheep of the whole family,
A blue eyed boy, apple of his fathers eye,
Born to run ’till the day he dies.
Shocking blonde hair, wavy and wild,
Angelic smile, an innocent child,
Easy to love, but quick to hate,
Circumstance would seal his fate.
Trouble was never very far away,
Beating up older kids, day after day,
Growing up always offering authority the finger,
Moving around, never long would he linger.
Drugs and alcohol, his only two friends,
It was apparrent to all where his story would end,
From care home to care home, always on the move,
Of him society would often disapprove.
Often locked up in cell overnight,
His fascist gaolers spoiling for a fight,
Good cop, bad cop, the same old routine,
Ne’er a lawyer who could intervene.
Up yet again in the juvenile court,
No family nor friend to offer support,
Its a lonesome old road and it only leads down,
Another 6 months, courtesy of Her Majesty’s crown.
Under lock and key, caged in a cell,
23 hours daily, shackled in hell,
In this claustrophobic hole he would be confined,
To this way of life he became so resigned.
Released 6 months later, he stares at the sky,
Wishing he had wings, so that he could fly,
Escape this life and start anew,
This was not the life he wished to persue.
It was not God, nor religion he sought,
He relied on his mind, believed in his thoughts,
He got into this mess, all on his own,
Because this was the only life he had known.
The time was now, to turn this life around,
The changes would come, some deep and profound,
Stripping ideals and principles down to their core,
The temptations before him he would have to ignore.
The change came about, slowly at first,
Some morals and beliefs he had to coerce,
The struggle went on, day after day,
Offers of assistance he would turn away.
On his own two feet he independantly stood,
Often renounced and misunderstood,
The life of crime was to be left behind,
To his new way of life he became slowly aligned.
The drink and the drugs relinquished their hold,
No more would they keep him under their morbid control,
This bold metamorphosis was now holding sway,
His former life, left in despair to decay.
Looking forward with purpose and a new expectation,
Viewing his life with a new inclination,
With the love of a woman and the joy of a child,
This man bids farewell to a life once thought so wild.