Childhood's End

Sun, 07 Jan 2007 08:38:46 GMT

"I started to frag... which started the whole world killing...

Oh, if I could've seen... that the bomb was on me..."

OK, enough of that bullshit and poppycock. Sit down, little ones and I shall tell ye a story:

"Once a upon a time, there was this boy. He loved to write. He loved it so much that even the toilet paper in his house was scrawled all over with pen ink that his parents had to walk ten miles to the nearest diner just to unload their cargo (in other words, to take a pee). He apparently had a profound interest in poetry. One day, someone walked into his house and told him to write something absurdly melancholic or else he would have his penis sliced off with a ten-foot machete and his testes made into windchimes (albiet EXTREMELY BLOODY ONES). Threatened by this insanely psychotic intruder with a lusty penchant for slicing off adolescent male genitalia, he began to write..."

*choking and spluttering in the background, someone yelling "MOTHERF***ING HELL! JESUS SAVE MEEEEEEEEE!!!!!", cows bleeding to death*

*10 minutes later...*

Alright, alright enough with the delays (I've gotta get rid of that habit) already. I'll come out with your money as soon as I finish this (stinking loan sharks). I somehow had a hunch last Tuesday to write something regarding my final rite of ascension to Manhood (alright, I'm going overboard here, someone save me). I was feeling rather under the weather that day, so I cooked up a little something something and decided "What the heck? This might actually work." What's more, this was done in about less than 15 minutes. AND IN AN AFTERNOON. I thought it might be appropriate seeing its raining outside, so here it goes (bring a tissue or two, and/or some rotten tomatoes too):

Childhood’s End

How many years shall I count to the now?

How many days do I have left to folly in?

How many hours do remain for my lonely self?

How many seconds are they a-ticking away?

I care not for these petty matters, for I already know;

That Childhood has ended, and Life has now begun.

My memories are all I have to remind me of my joy,

Of a time that I once had, and never will anymore.

The Seasons in the Sun, I wish I had experienced;

But alas, it was always Summer, never Spring nor Fall.

Winter heralded rain and drizzle, not snow or neither sleet;

How I wish to see a snowflake fall but alas there never was.

I was innocent and naïve, nary a care in the World;

I frolicked and leapt – a newborn lamb in a pasture green with grass.

But then the flock came and said to me, “It’s time to leave.”

I abandoned my Childhood days behind and moved on to someplace new.

I regret leaving this place behind, this magical fantasy;

How I’d wished I could come back awhile and relive those glorious days.

But sadly no, I can’t do so my mind beckons to move;

Away from my younger years and go on with my dreary life.

Too fast it came, I believe, my days of adulthood;

I haven’t yet done half the things present in my Life.

My heart yearns for my toddler days, my merry years of yore;

But my mind beckons me to go on, for Childhood’s End has come.

Frostmourne,

Tuesday the 2^nd, January 2007, 1.28pm

The Frozen Throne: Poetry

Childhood's End