That Boy Poems

As I go bare foot across the beach,
I see a grain of sand.
A man comes forth as if to teach,
And quickly grabs my hand.
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It’s nineteen thirty three.
Some lads, a gang of three,
Walking to the office
To buy their liberty.
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I’m walking through this famous park,
There is no sound or din.
I’m walking through this famous park,
The beauty takes me in.
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I often wonder about my house,
About floorboards, the stair case and mum’s hot scouse.
I often wonder about the world,
About flowers, trees and petals that curl.
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I look out my window,
My eye duth meet,
The neatly filed houses of Glover Street.
Looking further I see the shell,
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There was a young fellow called jack,
We don’t really know his real name.
When he was young he joined a pack,
And that’s how he came to fame.
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I am a bird, flying over trees.
I am a flock of Geese.
I am a tree, dancing in the breeze.
I am a hippy who just wants peace.
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Twenty years have passed and gone,
The pain you see, still caries on.
The pain that you have when you lose to the dead,
Still lingers and kills you, inside, in your head.
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In my house, I can see,
Pictures of my sister and me.
I walk into my hall, and I can see,
The kitchen were we should have tea.
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