Poetic Reckonings From Flash
A Child Forgotten - Part Four
By @CobyPrigg
Was this boy a doctor, a lawyer or a sailor?
At age seventeen, he was nothing but a failure.
He was living in a flat with his parents and theirs,
Having nothing for his breakfast but week-old pears.
He slept behind the couch on a punctured mattress of air,
Not that his parents would ever seem to care.
He hated them truly, from the bottom of his gut,
Partially for forcing him into his miserable rut.
His parents had ruined him, and destroyed his morale,
He had not a single friend, not even a pen pal.
He lay awake at nights, thinking of his life,
Remembering the days he tried to end it with a knife.
His grandparents could see that the boy was in turmoil,
But any plea for help, would only make them recoil.
This boy alone, and he feared that would never end,
Who could he ever meet, to truly call his friend?
His grades at school were at an all-time low,
All his parents gave him, was a bruise that seemed to glow.
He couldn’t rely on them for any kind of support,
He knew he’d make his own way, no matter who he had fought.
Despite his best efforts, the boy grew more and more sad,
Eventually believing it was he who had caused all the bad.
He was a liar still, it consumed his whole being,
He dreamt every night of breaking free and fleeing.
By the end of his eighteenth year, the boy had but one dream,
To make his parents proud, and so joyful they would seem.
He prospered through high school, and made it to graduation.
His parents weren’t there though, they preferred gambling manipulation.
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