A collection
of tin soldiers
each one
a formulation
of the lost
parts of self
dust
covered
tin soldiers
left sat
on the shelf
lined up
in single file
left to rust
tin soldiers
once lived inside
a solid
iron box
neatly tied
together
each one
holding a
memory
of his
unresolved hate
towards the boys
who use to taut
him in
the battle field
a representation
his inner warzone
the recurring
haunting
memoirs
of his misplaced
youth
fighting his corner
on his own
no-one would
believe his
courageous proof
only
causes more
destruction
on rainy
unmanageable days
those tin soldiers
seem to spout
hurtful names
words to tease
recalling helplessness
silent airy corridors
push down
onto his knees
every tin soldier
wears outdated
abusive remarks
the pushing
the shoving
unnoticed
black, blue
and red marks
the bruises
the bumps
he wore on
his head
he hid those
scars so well
underneath the bed
where he would
fearfully hide
trying to block out
the mockery
all consuming
painful torment
held inside
praying
no-one
would find him
as his tears
would run dry
minutes
lost in suffocation
whilst holding
his breath
in the boys room
watching his pride
swilling down
the drain pipe
thoughts of
wanting to die
to prevent
pointless nightmares
no-one heard
the doves cry
a collection
of tin soldiers
dismantled
demolished
destroyed
a reflection
of his inner self
a nobody
a void
experiencing bullying
feelings never been
explored
trauma left unspoken
a voice inside
informed him
he was broken
five fragmented
tin soldiers
lock in the attic
pulling down
the draw bridge
ensuring
the strangers
are kept at bay
locked inside
a tin box
turning into rust
timelessly sealed
broken bones
never heal
they turn
into unforgotten
dust!
MM C2015
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