The Boy’s Journey- a story through poetry









There was a boy once,

Though he was born with eyes,

He could not see,

One of many sons,

trapped in darkness

Many in darkness choose to stay,

The boy did not,

The boy could not,

And so he walked,

And he walked

There was a cloud,

Deep in the boy’s head,

Of pitch black darkness,

Many said he was lost,

He did not disagree

Through the thick cloud,

Voices could be heard,

Distant words from an unknown source,

Distant echoes in an eternal night,

Soon even they faded away

Darkness was all he had ever known,

To him there was no outside realm,

To him there was no cloud,

Cloying and blinding his way,

It was just him. Alone.




Little bug, weak and young

Crawling on a branch alone

After summer’s song has been sung

High above dead leaves and stone

Away from the family he was once among

separated and struggling on his own

Before winter brings it’s snow

After Autumn’s last sigh

Moving forward is all he’s ever known

And the decision to suffer or to die

If to struggle is to grow

He’ll be the strongest in the sky

Has it been millennia or a year

Little bug has no mouth to say

A life spent in unknown fear

Only solace is that maybe one day

After pushing aside all he held dear

Just a little more until he’s away

Sitting in a cocoon on his own

A lifetime of deeds good and bad

A lifetime of seeds that were sown

The only life he’s ever had

One he’ll forget when he’s grown

Now he’s flying without a landing pad

Little bug, beautiful and strong

crawling carefully on my hand

If I were a bug could I finally belong?

Could I cocoon myself away from this land?

Could I finally shed this body that feels so wrong?

But really instead of flying,

I just want to be able to stand




The boy fell into a dreadful hole

With a jolt that tore apart his soul

Waking up into an empty bed

Waking up to a wound that never bled

No longer could he discern reality and dreams

Or her cries and his mouth-less screams

Should have been a protector, she was his mother

Every-night he wishes she was another

Every-night he fell into that dreadful pit

And through curtains and worlds barely lit

He could see other mums and their loving sons

How he wished he could live that once

How he wished he had someone to catch him at the end

A lover, a brother, a friend

Days spent sitting by himself

Nights spent spinning into his hell

Father is a good man, the best

Days spent at work and weekends at rest

All the boy wanted was to speak to him every now and then

He just wanted him there in absence of his friends

They were worlds apart in ideas and beliefs

to cross those worlds would take only words passing teeth

But they never did, he never did

Soon their love became a desert, dry and arid

And soon the hole appeared at day too

No longer could he discern lies and the true

Everyone was an enemy, now they were at war

And every night he felt he could take it no more

The boy was so desperate to escape the dark

He wanted to explore the world and leave his mark

His head was full of ideas, his heart was full of good

But still the world passed him like a doll made of wood

Tumbling and falling, screaming in the black

Crashing and burning like a train without a track

He falls in love almost once in a day

and by night he has pushed them all away

Friends from school still hang out once a week

The friends who made him feel like less of a freak

But even they don’t text or call

He’s forgotten in every way, that is all

All he knows is the never ending fall

And now he’s learned to never show it at all

What he would give for someone to fall by his side

To take the hole from inside

An angry teen, a bitter man

Always resenting what was dealt in his hand

Living life as he always had

Alone, without mum or dad

How could they condemn the boy to a life like this?

He could understand if they tried and missed

But to them the gift of life was enough

And to quell his need of love with superficial stuff

He always wondered how hard it could be to just love him a little bit

But no-one else had managed the task, so maybe he was just shit

No longer a boy, an adult fully grown

So used to falling in this hole alone

Dreading the night, regretting the day

Soon the hole became his home, he could probably say

In the hole it’s hard to think of anything or anyone

It’s easy to think you’re the only son

And every night his Mum never felt so alone

She fell into a dreadful hole of her own




The thing about the abyss,

Is that no-one knows what it is,

Is it a dark hole, staring back?

Maybe it’s a wall you can never pass,

Or maybe it’s all in your mind,

Once a man said the abyss stares back,

But the boy never heard,

He never realised the abyss had eyes to see,

He never realised it ran through his veins,

A poison, but a warm one,

A comfort running through his arms and legs,

He raised a hand, and ahead of him he saw,

The abyss was a portrait,

A twisted painting,

Of the life he wanted,

The one he dreamed about

Picket fences and a wife who loved him,

A sense of fulfilment and happy kids,

Ones he did not fear to carry the same plague as him,

Ones who did not know the abyss was ever there

Separating the ground he stood at with his outstretched hand,

Pushing him away,

An endless, featureless canyon,

Between him and everything he wanted,

All he could do was jump,

And risk falling into unknown dimensions,

And miss his chance forever,

Never see that future happen,

But it was the only way,

He’d spent his life dreaming of it,

Blocking out the real world and living in peace,

Now here was a chance,

And he wanted to take it,

If only he knew how to jump





Broken, tired and cold

As he lie on the frozen floor

The boy remembered what it was like to be bold

What it was like to grab life by the throat and demand ‘More!’

What it was like to be anything but this

The boy had never found life easy in any way

Life was all about moving to the light at the end

It was like sprinting up a mountain each day

Just to catch up with his walking friends

What is it like to be anything but this?

But one day a miracle occurred, shining in the sun

The boy reached the mountains glorious peak

And although looking back on the journey, it had not been fun

He could finally say he was no longer weak

Would you want anything other than this?

He was strong, the strongest he had ever been

He was on top of the world in every sense

He could see everything that needed to be seen

He could no longer remember the sting of dissidence

What it was like when he was anything but this

But all good things end soon

and even mountains can begin to fall

And soon the boy, sensing his own doom

Had to run to the bottom of it all

Of what it’s like to be anything but this

Compared to the sun soaked summit at top

The mountain floor was an arctic zone

And though he thought with his new strength he could stop

the biting cold, it stripped him to the bone

What’s it like being anything but you?

Back where he was, freezing with those at the bottom

Where no-one would help each other, certainly not for free

They stole and drained him and he couldn’t stop ’em

What he would give to see the sun again and feel the breeze

What was it like to be anything but them?

Necessity brought him back, duty makes him stay

But never once does he think of this frozen place

He thinks of the mountain top every day

He travels back in his mind behind a blank face

Almost it’s like being anything but this

But now the mountain seems daunting

The feat seems like an impossible climb

And now the memory seems almost haunting

Maybe he could have done it at another time

Before he was anything but this

Now he accepts his fate

He’s one of the ones he left behind

Not out of spite nor out of hate

Only because he had his own life to find

If he was anything but this

A cold touch on the shoulder and the frost grew

The warmth left his body, the last thing he wanted was it

He became cold to the touch, cold to those he knew

No longer could he remember even a bit

What it was like to be anything but this




There’s a battle, there’s a war

No-one knows how long for

A million casualties a day

But how it happened, none can say

And No-one knows how much more

There’s a hurricane, there’s a storm,

It’s destroying from dusk til dawn,

There’s an earthquake, happening inside

The boy tries to run, he tries to hide

He tries to find shelter until dawn

He hears the cannons thunder

And hears a storm tear the city asunder

He hears the screams and the cries

And hears the last of his sanity as it dies

But there are no sights to match this wonder

The city is fine and free of burns

There are no open wounds to be concerned

But still he can hear not a whisper but a bang

A million of them, the most dreadful song ever sang

Roaring from their graves and urns

There’s a hundred souls who are screaming

Telling him he holds no meaning

In an uncaring world where there is barley a whispered word

He screams but is unheard

Just another voice in a world of dreaming

There’s a battle. There’s a war

No-one knows how long for




There’s a crow outside my door

Like a nightmare straight from Poe’s mind

I don’t know how long he’ll be there for

I don’t know what he wants from the signs

He looks at me with black eyes

and he turns his head in a curious way

I let out one of my famous sighs

I don’t know what to say

What do you want me to tell you, little crow?

That the skies are blue until they’re grey

Is there anything you don’t know?

I don’t know what to say!

You’re out there, doing your little crow thing

I’m in here, being my lonely self

I have no other songs to sing

Are you here to check on my health?

Of course not, how absurd!

To you the world is black and white

that’s the way of you birds

But for others we only have our monochromatic sight

You have feathers, you have wings

You don’t have taxes or problems or peeves

You don’t concern yourself with material things

When things are bad you just take up and leave

Well who needs that? I cry

I don’t need wings when I have what I want

I don’t need a flock, I have bonds that tie

I have my own features to flaunt!

Who needs your instinct when you can think and feel

Who needs to fly when I can stay

When I can sit and pretend it’s real

That need to get up each day

Finally the crow realises his mistake and he flies

But I still whisper to ears that are only mine

That I realise all I’ve said are lies

Sometimes it’s true only birds can fly




They say where there’s a will there’s a way. But they also say good things come to those who wait

But who are they to say these things? Are they normal or are they people like you?

Are there people like you?

Of course, such an easy delusion. To think there is no-one else suffering. To say that the few are not many. It’s easy to think that everyone’s life is a movie. You want your happy ending but you’re not ready for the credits to roll just yet.

It’s easy to let that stop you. It’s easy to give up. It’s hard to tell yourself every day there is a happy ending for you and that it’s worth fighting for. It’s hard to tell the people you love that things aren’t going well for you. Sometimes it’s impossible.

It’s hard to keep moving when you feel so broken. It’s hard to run when your feet are beaten and bloody. It’s hard to crawl when your nails are splintered. It’s hard to stand up when there’s no reason to do so. It’s hard to watch you continue.

But you do. Sometimes you wonder if there’s a point to it. You wonder if that ending is even worth fighting for. Sometimes you think about giving it all up. But you don’t.

They say where there’s a will there’s a way. And yours is stronger than any I’ve ever seen.




The mirror stared back at him, and he stared at his crystalline view

Though they were dim, a cold pale blue

Unblinking, dispassionate, sat in a black caldera

Though they once might animate, now the eye of a chimera

Unkempt, unshaven, hair elegantly dishevelled in a way

Hidden in his safe haven, holed up for days

Alone in his castle, none would follow him here

Not that he did ask all, he was bound by fear

He was no longer a friend to any, barely even an afterthought

And once he dropped that penny, he retracted into his own fort

Shut out, shut in, a reclusive beast

So he starved until he was thin, though he constantly thought of feasts

Someone will come, he told himself

Someone will come, he lied to himself

Castle, a romantic thought, strong and protective of his body

A hole was what he truly sought, to hide this strange oddity

Of a man, alone, but for reasons too numerous to say

Give him a friend or throw him a bone, he’ll discard it any day

Give him a lover or someone to trust, give him anybody at all

He’ll find a way to ruin it like he must, he’ll make that bridge fall

He’ll make his best friend wonder why they try, and soon they will stop

And once they are gone he’ll cry, he’ll scream towards the mountain top

He’ll pray to any god that will listen, he’ll ask for one more chance

He’ll beg for an exclusion to the system, for a different dance

But he’ll never realise he pushed them all away, that they left because of how he is

Because how can it be yourself to blame? How can you admit to pushing away someone you’ll miss?




Years have passed and the boy has grown up old

He sits on the grass under a tree

Listening to the bird’s tales being told

Watching the flowers welcome the bees

He sits not alone in this busy park

He rests his head on old strong roots

He watches a caterpillar climb it’s bark

He taps a tune with his boots

He watches the verdant leaves steal all the light

He looks up into the endless sky

And watches a flock of birds in restless flight

And for once he did not wish he could fly

An inverted ocean of infinite blue

A smearing of the purest white

He sighed and believed something true

There’s so much in the world that delights

As the sun bid farewell

He stood on top of the highest hill

He watched the bloated lights swell

He felt the warmth give way to chill

An explosion of colour

An uproar of silence

Reds and oranges but nothing duller

A watercolour pallet that needed no rinse

He watched drifting leaves in the failing sun

He was all too familiar with the feeling

Often he would fall like he weighed a tonne

But like skin that feeling was peeling

He no longer drifted, he walked with pride

In the new colour of night

In days like this he could not feel it at his side

Almost like he was winning the fight

Of course it would be back again

The storm in his head, the abyssal wall

And what would he do then?

Why, he would just look to the sky

And for a moment,

He would forget it all.

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