A little different as a child
reduced, cajoled and ridiculed;
In adulthood he should have been part of a world
where he was celebrated not for his eccentricities
but for the manner of his will
that brought him this far
when as a child he thought himself too weak he never could.
He took to his grave
the tales he spun to those closest to him;
the lies were perpetuated by conventions life demanded.
He came in as he went out:
aimless, spineless and penniless.
If he spoke it would never be a sob or cry
more a dog's death whimper begging for its demise.
Loyal to a fault
guilt-ridden and gilded
by the shame instilled, he found himself in the middle
until the days were their own worst reminder of what could've been simple.
He sought refuge where a child would
until that place was no longer vacant; .
memories penetrated the safe-haven
He had to come out - stand on his own two feet
but paralyzed by a world of his own making
God couldn't indulge;
someone who was closest had to help him live this fantasy
if he were ever to see sanity.
A disservice was done to him
but in no way was this a crime of immaturity;
for what his years lacked in his identity
he made up for in blind resolve that one day his wildest dreams
would yield fortune - whatever he wanted just to be on his own.
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