#childhood #growing #growing older #trouble #maker #troublemaker


I put my boy down for the last time today,

No more holding my hand, no more riding on my shoulders.

He insists on being called a man, but I can’t do that just yet.

I left him at the roller rink with some friends, they didn’t look so friendly,

4 hours later I picked him up and he couldn’t look at me. “What’s wrong bud?”

He turned to me and I lost everything.

A tear ran down his left cheek, right over the swollen purple bruise.

Those prideful baby blues were blistered with regret.


He finally let his heart spill out.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

If they ever touch him again...




By rising true early childhood

I was mean troublemaker

No evil

But also no good

I followed my heart

Even when my mind

Told me different

Done same stupid things

Went into fights

But I showed from what

Material I was made

Always at first

I used words

Funny and harsh words

Depend on that do I like

Or don’t like people

That I’m speaking with

When that didn’t work

I used my fists

Few punches learned

From TV and computer games

That gave some results

Even some of that results

I was amazed too

I didn’t touched weak or stupid

I always go for stronger than me

Bigger they are

Easier they fall

With words goes same

I spoke with them and

Gave them words that

They don’t understand

Provoke them

Weak minds cried

Stronger tried to reply

That gave the boost

And make more interesting

Sometimes we stop

Sometimes we fight

I tried to use words on girls

But I get kicked

On that way I learned that

Girls are smarter

Later I used some tender words

Learned from romantic movies

That worked

Sometimes girls cried

Because sometimes I just played

But growing older made me trouble

As I was growing older

I started to listen more

Mind than heart

That made many problems

That made me many troubles