In a world of adults
Happiness is not always good
Sadness is almost never bad
Love is all in.

In a world of adults
My drawings are stories waiting to be animated
My songs are for money
Enjoyment is king to a happy life

In a world of adults
The heart is most important
Mind your head or be struck down
Your soul is above all

In a world of adults
What people say about you doesn't matter
Until it makes you feel uncomfortable
So speak back! Or you're at fault.

In a world of adults
The past will never leave you.
The future will grow dim.
And most people are morons

In a world of adults
You will know friendship when it happens.
It is natural.
Unless you struggle to express yourself. Then give up.

In a world of adults
The rules are absolute
You should have always known
But people left you and now you know

In a world of adults
Progress is stunted
Kids are raised without being told the truth
And they are blamed for it


I am at fault for my ignorance
In this world of adults
I wish to have never been born
I wish to have never been seen

In my world, I am its only inhabitant.
Bearing the wisdom of an adult, only to be wasted.
Tossed about like dust in the wind.
Filed away like notes on an ex.

The sky drew open grazing curtains of light.
Marching across the hills with new mornings rush.
Albert awoke darkly from the dreams of his night.
And sighed for his laments now lost in the brush.

Albert made way for time to move on.
He had reached the age of eight and bore a fine skew.
made life with his friend Liz and so on,
To live so secluded in this strange world anew.

"I'm up Liz. Do you have food I could eat?"
Albert asked with a polite sense not too cool nor too hot.
"I'll prepare it now, Driyu." She attended his need.
"Thank you." and he spoke words yet untaught.

For a moment Albert watched the woman standing up.
A lady with wolf ears sprouting from her head.
A fuzzy wolf tail he felt looked quite odd to its puff.
And a kind countenance that brought love to her stead.

"My name is Albert." He spoke once again.
For the thousandth time past from when he could speak.
But unto deaf ears fall his words of a friend.
To a mother who's mind to his truth would not speak.

Albert went out to their yard and began his alien ritual.
Of movements so fine and sleek in their practice.
From the warm up, to his muscles to stretching residual,
The struggle to become stronger, Albert could not lack this.

With every hop, bounce and strike the pattern went on.
Albert long had grown numb to the sight of his clownish dance.
Liz watched on from inside, spying to her moves unknown.
Then her patience for this spectacle, her patience did not last.

"Why do you do this? My boy, why train to fight?
You would do better to study my writings I have written.
By learning and study, may your future be bright,
Rather than by sword where death walks unbidden."

"Training and studying are only together strong.
Without the body the mind would be wicked and cruel.
It would move without fragility or care of its wrongs.
And without mind, the body walks, a blunted tool."

This boy she had raised and would continue to thus.
Felt closer to a man from his birth made deranged.
By a past she did not know of a life he would not fuss,
Or share amongst them both and would so remain.

On the day they had found each other by the river sat along.
Where she held him and took him and found a shack out remote.
The house that they lived would stand alone in the throng,
Of luscious green land kept their lives still afloat.

"Driyu why do you train? You still have not answered me".
"I want to grow stronger, to keep alive best I can.
This world is, was, has and forever will be,
The hell of a home for the unprepared man.

Being weak is a sin, being dumb is a joke.
The words of a fool would to me always say.
"If you don't do as I say, watch your efforts become smoke"
So to defy others, even you, I will not change my way."

"A child should play and not worry of such things."
Albert could not let that thought be given rest.
"I am me and always me. My thoughts worry brings.
But you are right to say anxious thoughts are unblessed.

The fact is I enjoy it, I like feeling progress.
And how much stronger and faster I'll be.
Like a wolf on the prowl or the shadows caress
A scary big burly man being all crazy they'll see!

Stomping the ground and masses alike.
All falling under King Albert the emperor of all.
The greatest tactician and warrior of might.
And when all has fallen, the last guy they call."

"A wolf on the prowl, what does that mean?"
"An insignificant noteless figure of speech Lizzy."
"Driyu I heard it, play with me not coy."
"With utmost respect and love, I am busy."

A day later, Albert still laying on his back.
The sky shifted and upended in its mood,
It moved from a still to a crawl to attack,
As the sun bore into Alberts eyes drew.

There was no sights to be had as they closed now unseen.
Paintings of life in the ill mannered dark
Dread and the feelings of anxiety it could bring.
A single point of hope at an insignificant spark.

The weepings and moanings of a woman in the light.
Unknown and just heard as Alberts eyes held shut.
"Why do you hate me master. For your whip to scar so tight?
I can't stand why it is me you would cut.

I can't be here, I can't stand it. I cannot believe I was so dumb.
To think a thing such as I could be loved.
Were I a more courageous woman with fortitude to come.
I would end my life and see my parents above."

Albert heard the words, he heard them quite clear.
They pierced his heart like bullets shot close.
While love of others meandered, it would mingle and steer.
To him and this woman, it glared on as its foes.

Albert exhausted from hunger and in dire straits.
He clicked and he cracked as his voice at a choke.
The unduly silence was met in its pace.
As the woman into the river would go.

And Albert turned his head, he looked at the ****.
Of the water made open by her gait.
He felt and he hoped, with his heart in a trash.
This woman would not die in the waters gate.

But the quiet would linger and the bubbles would stop.
He felt darkness crawl into his heart.
Alberts eyes would close promptly as he began to sob.
And the moment of this cold depart.

Suddenly! He disappeared from view as a wish was made.
The baby boy had crossed to the sea.
And again he appeared with soppy woman bade,
"Wake up" as no words left his mouth would be.

He stared on with blank thoughts and a feeling of empty,
He layed on his belly and watched her eyes cry.
The death she had wanted and prayed as a plenty,
And why she had come back on the grass, "Why.

Why am I breathing.  Why can I see.
Why is my body so tired."
The end that would befall, the end that couldn't be.
As by Alberts strength, her life is not retired.

But he watched and he waited.
She lay and she cried.
There eyes met and she was sated.
By her baby savior she relied.

"Hahaha! How? How could you do it? How could you save me like that?
It's not possible but no one is here and I'm here.
Baby boy, what have you done to keep me on this flat?
I don't understand. I don't get why you would care."

Albert could not speak as he was an infant, but his eyes,
His eyes betray the calm delay to emotion of an adult.
From words spoken, to feelings taken to what we use as a guise.
Albert shifted his view to the water, than back without fault.

"Can you... Understand me?"
Albert without thinking nodded his head.
The woman sat with cynicism underneath that tree.
Mind on her matter over the dumb words she said.

"I don't know if you can but I'm sorry.
I'm sorry you saw me do that.
I don't want anyone to see me and worry.
I'm strong and these feelings I combat."

As she lied to him, Albert understood and did not fight.
He did not cry nor laugh nor believe her absurd.
His heart tore at her words so sincere in there bite.
Of emotions unshared, Of horrors unheard.

In a place he did not know, the birds sang out.
Where Albert lay still, clear amongst the reeds.
Hurling the thoughts in his head as they moved on about.
Mind the small human as one amongst the seeds.

On the side of a lake that tranquil waves cross.
A man of wonder moved and crossed his path.
"Here you go Albert from where I did toss,
From the starry heavens into this earthy strath.

You cannot speak now as you cry little babe.
But your story is not as bad as it seems.
And you will do as I speak, by my right you are swayed.
From eternity in bliss to a life in the weeds.

I have a goal to achieve, and I hope you can help.
But enough of that now for the time will come too.
And time, I have, for you to grow from a young whelp.
Because still I know, life will keep driving you.

Now I want you... To remember what it is you had lost.
And liven your spirits for this is not the end.
For my purpose you live on, this life your resource.
Though you will probably fail and from this will descend."

Abert listened to the words with protest then so still.
As the dawn of understanding met closely his eyes.
The wetness of his cheeks, the sadness so fill,
And unwillingness to accept this man and his lies.

But like the wind on the hills, he disappeared to the greater.
"I am Loki." though this name served to none,
but a passing thought right now, an obsession  for later.
Albert waited as his body cried out for someone.

Anyone to hear, to care and to hold.
With grateful irony he giggled into his new life.
His needs unmet now, the same as his old.
And he remembered, he remembered his pain so rife.

"Brian and Kate. Where were you today?"
The old Albert had asked knowing the answer.
The answer was away, hidden and not to say.
As Albert was left all alone in that manner.

"We were hanging out. What are you doing?"
The emptiness in Albert grew at what he had heard.
The woman he loved and the times he spent cooing,
And his best friend still along with her words.

"I was hoping to hang out. I had another fight today.
My father and I will no longer talk.
The path he is on and mine long since fray.
We no longer by each other will walk.

I'll be around but not so much.
Consider my time with you here has been taken.
And without parents will be alone as such.
And I am still a little worried and quite shaken."

Albert felt the hug of his friend, the warmness of her arms.
And the hug of a man he began to hate.
The times of this abandonment played as alarms.
And he had believed the pain in this dream to be fate.

Albert did not want to relive his memories true.
Even in the afterlife they cut into his heart, so deep.
And just one of these felt, but many more will too.
Of the void carried on inside him to keep.

I had a dream of you.
This was different.
In it you snubbed me and acted as if I didn't exist.
In a place I don't know.

It made me hurt.
That dream is our reality right now and onwards.
It may seem obsessive, but I am still grieving us.
I don't feel that loss of you going away anytime soon.

But I will stop writing poems about you.
I had a thought as my heart broke for the thousandth time.
That I had done my best with the tools I had.
That a relationship without a future has no need for a past.

I'm sorry for everything.

Beckon the lost soul.
Come to where we lay the wreath.
For your endless pain.
Reward the end of your grief.

And Albert moved on through the sky.
Where choirs of angels sang.
"O' joy welcome, the soul" they cry.
"Welcome Albert" their voices rang.

"To the kingdom of heaven you come,
Bearing tidyings of love to him on his throne,
Where his glory will fill your heart, strong one,
Come, to the kingdom of heaven, rest so,"

And the angels, with their robes and halos,
they viewed Albert as a noble son to be praised.
Their faces, like his, like the humans that lay low,
Beneath, as his beloved, ripped from him stays.

And on an endless expanse of white, Albert steps.
The singing lows to a hum as he walks.
To a small gate, like the one to eden I suspect.
Where an old man waits at the fork.

"Not many people see this young man,
you are here to be judged for your sins."
"And of the crowd, around, are they part of this plan?
To see my past before me, torn out from within."

Click, his fingers went and the angels were gone.
In a blink they had left from his sight.
"I don't enjoy hurting a fragile man, so calm,
be calm and don't worry, nor fight.

I am merely an observer who listens and will speak,
I suspect you're a man who tried his best.
I have faith you will be given a chance at the peak,
To enter. Now, to the rest."

Albert clenched and unclenched his fists, but did not find the strength,
to move from one spoke to the next.
To pass on from this life, and move to the penthouse.
And take his place in the eternal breast.

"What is your name?" the man asked.
"Albert, and yours?" "I am Peter.
I am serving as the eyes for the kingdom of heaven.
And for you, consider me your praetor."

"Like an administrator?" Albert asked, his eyes feigning interest.
"Exactly! Like one of those with a process to follow."
"I see." Albert said. And with that, he was silent.
And Peter began, aware of Alberts heartfelt sorrow.

"You are guilty of many, but proven false in none.
Your story is not one to be ridiculed or held,
In contempt, I find you quite lacking,
To love, I see in your body given to dwell."

Albert began. "I have betrayed, I have hurt, I have lied.
I have done nothing to deserve a place amongst the stars.
I feel I have done everything wrong in my life.
There is nothing to be proud in those memoirs."

"If your story were different, I would agree.
For now I can say that's not true.
But arguing is a game for fools on the ground.
So, with passage, to heaven I grant to you.

With serenity you accepted your mothers cruel words.
With courage you faced a fathers wrath.
Your own friends, you decried, but you fought and you loved.
And to their fates, I have no kind words, for what they have."

An angel believes that Albert is worth saving.
Albert believes he is wrong.
And even Peter could not stop this fate that was caving,
Into a hole in Alberts mind made unsound.

But Peters eyes had risen to above.
As a single black form in the white.
Was looking back down, unflinching to he,
who would judge those souls on their flight.

And he raised his hands as his the angels had appeared.
Their armour clinched up in the beyond.
And a flash of darkness, stole sight from the heavens.
And Albert appeared by a pond.

The end was not there.
The flight was at an end.
From where had Albert been thrown?

To the confusing becoming,
of a baby lay bear,
Albert, on his back all alone.

"Where did he go?"
The one who asked the question.
He does not believe it so.
That he should move to the next section.

From the heart of a mother.
To the love of the son.
And the bond of his father.
Brought together into none.

Albert did not live and love,
from the beginning of his life he kept,
And himself was made safe through the rough.
Only by himself, for himself had he wept.

And when he was known to be gone.
There was almost no one to weep.
And the few who shed tears, some.
They knew his broken heart would not beat.

It had lived with a hole,
so open and bleeding.
And in his words, it did show.
A friend to hold it closed he was needing.

And the books in his house were of adventure.
The thoughts on his head were of struggle.
His poems published online of indenture,
That his unwell mind was mired in trouble.

And they spoke of a girl he once knew.
And the investigator, most likely, he thought.
"I think Albert took his life, and he threw.
And with that, a lot of trouble for us he brought."

Albert never wanted to bring others trouble.
But it seemed he couldn't help it, even when away.
And as the papers were brought to a file and wrapped in a bundle.
The case was brought to an end that day.

But Albert was alive and with a stumble.
He was here now, he was here to stay.