PERSON Poem: NEW BIKES TO BRUISES by Damian Greystoke

You came from far away with so much sorrow in your smile,
We walked to a park and sat, you told me how and why,
Started remembering your father replacing broken bikes.
Rejoicing in the fact that you were such a happy child,
But then your mother was called to join the stars in the night.

Give your father a month or so he’d lined up an old-new wife,
Sat you down on limestone steps, you’d probably still recognise,
Told you of the possibilities, you could have in a new life,
When you said yes, you remembered his awkward smile.
Then off you went, a ferry taking you five hundred miles.

When you met your new family, you felt part of the whole design,
Maybe retrospectively, your father should’ve seen the signs,
Your life was simply cindered now, Cinderella to the fire,
As you recalled, your green eyes turned amber in the sunrise.

Starvation and degradation are just fragments in your mind.
Your sister beat you with a heel until your skull began to cry,
Your step-mother gave you milk, a shrug, told you that it’s fine.
Then back you went to cleaning up after just a little while.

One day much later, you’d escape that place, with your life,
Your father said he was disappointed, you caused this divide.
Maybe he would have seen the pain you were in, if he had tried,
Maybe you’d still be there if he didn’t let it all fall by the wayside,

But life is a cathedral, where we must set aside all pride.
A father lost a daughter, but the lucky boy still has a wife.
The daughter lost everybody, but she left the worst behind.