Old Little Boy Junior

Old Little Boy Junior, up he went left he gone

He see light, bright, white, happiness and unattained ideals

Impossible to achieve from the world he once lived on

But now reality his once ambiguous appeals


The things he left when young; or who left him

Returned now when old, and dead.

Mother Father Grandma Grandpa Elders Cavemen

His family tree with him, greeting him with open limbs

Hundreds of siblings sat before him, misled

Like him, he looks at his neighbors, as hundreds sit again


No way, Junior exclaims, as the darkness suddenly floods

Everyone Everything dissipates as a wave of nothingness erases

Before he left for this place of imagination, he gave up blood

What came about was nothing planned for steadfast embraces


The false imagery was nothing worth his relentless

Wishing he hadn’t been so fearless of death

Letting go from the physical made him presentless

He gave up easy, now left beyond his last breath.

Guide that inspired this poem: 


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