Treasure Island

Sylvia Chidi

(Germany)

The Aftermath of youthful shenanigans


The Aftermath of youthful shenanigans
I taste the blood of my bodies vessels cans
From the aftermath of youthful shenanigans

My eyes are closing
My mind is wandering
My soul is flying
All over like a grasshopper hopping
From one place to another
If I am not careful my soul might distance
Itself from my body for ever

The aftermath of youthful shenanigans
First the rakus booing
Then the sheer physical moment
Of punching and kicking
Now I am lying on the floor unconscious
Considering giving up the ghost
Till I am awakened by the sounds of youthful boasts
Whispering of getting rid of the evidence
Along the coast
And drinking afterwards to a toast

My body is aching
Its pain is immense
I don’t even have time to ask
What have I done to deserve this

Suddenly the voices disappear
I can see everyone from the air
Having loads of fun
By sending out my images on their mobile phones
A sudden bright daylight
And below shows me dressed up as white
A voice is urging me to give up the fight

I close my eyes
This most be a dream
Like in the movie films
I open my eyes again
I see a young boy
Hanging from a tree
Kids are laughing
While he is struggling so hard to be free
What has become of us
What has become of we
The sounds of noises
Sets them on the road to flee

This is the epitome of youthful madness
A sheer pinnacle of human sadness

© Sylvia Chidi- 17 October 2005

Submitted: Saturday, October 15, 2005
Edited: Monday, October 17, 2005
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