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I left home when I was Thirteen
Covered in scabs and bruises
I now live on the streets
The street of losers
On this street there aren’t any lights
But at least there aren’t any fights
I sleep under the Stars in the dark
On a rusty old bench in the Park
I cradle an Arm still in plaster
That is what happens when you don’t listen
to the Master
I had one too many falls down the stairs
I turned my Back and was caught unawares
A fall or a push it is all the same
Cause I would be the one to get the blame
Still only Thirteen
But I feel like I am Twenty Five
I have tried every trick in the book
Just to stay alive
Raid the Dumpsters for a scrap of food
At Thirteen I was a street wise dude
Late one night a group of guys arrived at my bench
I try to get my butt cheeks to clench
But they pull down my pants
No words were spoken
Im Broken
After that I tried all sorts of Drugs
But what I really needed was love
With lots of hugs
But I didn’t get any of that
So I started to live on the fringe
I had found a new Friend
A Drug filled syringe
My Eyes are dilated
But it took me away from the life I hated
Why is life such a piece of Shit?
It just piles up from where I sit
Piles and piles of the smelly Brown stuff
Please let me up I have had enough
I have to escape this life
But I have a Ball and Chain around my Leg
All I can do is hustle and beg
I sell my body and I sell my Soul
Then I am discarded like a lump of Coal
I am nothing but a piece of lint to be brushed aside
So just go inside my Head and try to hide
But I know that is just a token
Im Broken
I am hearing voices but not with my Ears
The voices mingle with my fears and my tears
My Head is getting crowded with a a lot of different
identities
I think I am on the verge of insanity
Maybe I should live my life in a straight jacket
In a Rubber walled Cell
But I am hearing so many voices who can tell
Maybe I am Bi Polar or Schizophrenic
But still the voices tell me don’t panic
I am glad that nobody knows my name
And that I am on the game
But I have to feed the voices to keep them quiet
I just to get down on my Knees
And get through the night
I feel like I am choking
Im Broken
I am now Eighteen and taking my Medication
I am off the streets and off the Drugs
Through a lot of hard work and dedication
The voices have all gone quiet
The only voice that I hear is my own
If that is a good or bad thing
Only time will tell
In the hope that my life stays sane
I count my blessings and visit the wishing well
I am now Twenty Five
With a lovely Wife Two Kids
And a big fancy Car
My past life is so near yet so far
I am no longer broken
Just slightly bent and twisted
Sometimes I think about the Drugs
They still need to be resisted
I am now living in a better space
I can walk down the street and show my face
Everybody has a past
But you cant live there
You have to live in the here and now
Because tomorrows aren’t forever
Your tomorrow might not arrive with the Sun
But just remember
In somebodies Eyes
You are number one.
THE END.
Thank you for taking the time to read one of my stories and if you have the means could you please make a donation so that i can reach my dream and become a fulltime writer. Thanks again Steven.