No, not today boy,
not today.
It's been long,
50 years defined in yesterdays.

Yesterday,
When this boy,
held his pen in the wrong hand.
Yesterday,
When a siren,
Silenced all his thoughts.
Yesterday,
When he discovered,
bracelets weren't just for hands.
Yesterday,
When doors,
resembled his future.

He is gone now,
searching for his innocence,
as all that remains tender now,
are these bars.

These bars, i now call home.

I last saw them yesterday,
the longest yesterday in the last 50 years of my life.
Not today though,
not today mate,
as today a boy,
holding his stick in the wrong hand,
realised,
that siren was the only music he had known,
and yesterday was the only tomorrow he had to know.