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.