Age 15

‘There was a boy’.

___________

I think I spent the majority of being 15 – being explosively angry, deeply depressed and viciously violent.  You could safely say that it wasn’t one of my most desirable seasons in life!

I say I ‘think’ because I can’t be totally sure, because the whole of ages 14 & 15 are pretty-much a total blur to me; like some kind of thick primal fog, I don’t remember a lot of chronological details, birthdays, achievements, ‘normal-life-stuff’ I don’t remember much at all, because the ‘fog’ was/is so thick;  but I do remember and know that it wasn’t at all good and that it hurt… a lot!

The fog was partly self-induced, partly self-protection and partly an inevitable implosion as the walls of sensitivity, control, respect, belief & hope that I had accepted and believed in, all came crashing down around me resulting in  spectacular rage and dysfunction.

However, I still felt very deeply and in doing so I wrote… poetry (…of a kind?!). Most of what I wrote during this season is not fit nor appropriate to be repeated or reproduced in any fashion at all!

But hidden away in the midst of the fog there was a naive, simple little child, a little boy who dreamt and wrote poetry and little songs about friendship and about a different, better World.

~

“There was a boy…”

  There was a boy, ‘lived far away

His mother died just yesterday

His father died three days before

He has no money – so he is poor

There was a woman, with a very kind heart

She came along in a horse-and-cart

She read him poems, she sang him psalms

She picked him up – in her gentle arms

And after that nothing ever went wrong

And that’s the end of my little song.

……………………………….

  © Danny Scott (age 14/15 yrs).

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