Paul Begadon Poetry

Around the streets
And about the town,
When sweet black night
Had settled down,
Huddled,hooded down
An alleyway.
We'd stay and face the cold
So you wouldnt be alone,
We knew you wouldnt go
Back to that house again.
The handprints 'round your throath
Where your fathers games would show,
Raven black hair covered up
A beaten face.

How many times you cried
As you wished that thing would die.
And with that thing
The bruises could finaly fade.
A life of partys,drugs and sex.
A beautiful girl,a total wreck,
Could i,perhaps,
Have stopped the flow of tears?
But i was far too young back then,
What can boys do aginst such men?
And a boy i would remain for many years.

Poet: Paul Begadon