Dusted Trophies Poem by Matisse WalkdenBrown

So the cars they pass you by now
And the girls knees stay strong
Your room is getting smaller
And you sing a slower song

The trophies gather dust now
And photographs rip and fade
The boys they drink their beer still
And talk about the old days

You chased the glitter south
And smashed mirrors to make more
You held onto the legend
The man in the boy you adored

I guess I became a story
A memory of a girl
Who questioned why when you had her
You screamed and craved for more

So it seems life has its ways now
Of sifting through whats deserved
I sit here with your dreams in hand
And you caught the ball that curved

The night seems so much darker now
The stars don't spell your name
You battled hard in a war
That was really just a game

And while you still hear us chanting
Drunk with teenage pride
The bottles have long been emptied
Years rusted by the tide

The lines on your face are strangers now
I don't recognise your skin
The light in your eyes is dull now
And you didn't even win