The Man who became a Boy
They see in me a criminal, a sadistic don
Holding guns and driving car with blaring horn
Pie eyed, puffing smoke and killing on the roadside
Cough! Cough! Not true that thee-a Matricide.
Aye! But, still a boy liking to lick that ice-cream,
Chase my maiden until into my ear she does scream.
Splash water on mother, before she understands ‘why’
I sit in my lonely room, better in my solitude,
Counting unknown days with withering fortitude.
Oblivious of day or night, of rain or shine
Waiting for food with a metal plate, now entirely mine!
The door creaks with a faint voice speak;
“Ye, last sunset today”, his words so bleak.
And it tosses a frosty and ugly reflection.
Repent! Repent! Not to splash water on mother!
Not to chase my lovely maiden in the moor!
But to have killed not one but many, for law is blind,
And thee a boy for none to fear and none to hear.
