Man-child

By habit and repute and daring cunning

By never minding who or what was hurt,

By creeping, checking, doing worst and running,

Never caught though, always after, cursed.

By being stealth and venom in one moulding,

By wrapping it with subterfuge and sly,

By revelations, once perceived, revolting,

Never sought and always wond’ring why.

By hands that first turned fists to malice mischief,

By feet that rarely led but to astray,

By numbing all the sense he once was born with,

Never cared and always went own way.

Antithesis to good, I knew the boy then,

No one could get round or through or near,

Sixteen years have flown, I still recall him,

Man-child nurtured, natured in all fear.

 

No Friend

I’m working my way through the 25 day music challenge set by Twindaddy and tomorrow’s question asked for a piece of music associated with a former friend. I could no more post the song I associate with this person than I wanted to think about her. Someone, in fact, has already posted the song. But she popped into my head because of the reflection given on what that question meant to me. This was no friend. Neither ‘former’ nor latterly, although I did believe so for a number of months when I was too stupid to know better. She hurt someone who is my best friend. She pretty much hurt everyone she came into contact with. This was a dangerous person to know. I’m posting this and hope the memories fade back to where they belong. In the past.

I’d all but forgotten her

and the rank taste of her lies,

the pouting lips,

vicious eyes,

vitriolic vomit spewed

on foes and friends alike,

smiling hands on hips,

her fetid spite,

getting her rocks off

with slanderous stones cast,

malevolent glee

in days past.

I’d almost forgotten

I’d ever known one

so vicious,

pond scum,

bottom feeder,

bred for cauldron’s pot.

I won’t remember.

Best I not.