One for the proactive, that never look back,
On the ticking time bomb that remains in their past.
If you join me on a brisk walk down memory lane,
Be expecting a sprint with hurdles and pain.
Life’s a masala, like a bowl of *** pourri,
Do you have Bernard’s watch, or a cup of tea you can pour me?
The bittersweet taste makes everything better..
Watch me paint my face - the ultimate trendsetter,
While I dance around the truth and shake around the fear,
That’s been shadowing me now for a good 20 years.
It started with a breath and ended with a scream,
As many lives unravelled in silence and bad dreams.
So many scenes forgotten, rejected and deleted,
As my young mind drowned but refused to be defeated.
Defaced and defiled, no attempt to be reconciled,
No retribution resonates with the word *******.
One person to blame, one person Scot free,
One person rewarded immunity.
But would the penultimate moment when intervention intervenes,
Cause combustible chaos awaiting to be seen?
So read my tangle of nonsense words scribbled in scratchy black pen,
As I’ll never be able to colour out of the lines again.
Every ounce of innocence and youth has already been depleted,
Let us mourn a life-post, never to be repeated...
