Far, far away, deep in a land of fairy tales.
Lived a young boy who never knew what it was to fail.
Ruddy and innocent, so sweet and tender.
There was this girl, and one day he gave a flower to her.
Said her, all pretty and cute, “And why might this be?”
“Is this because you like me?”
Said boy, nodded his head, “Yes, I really do.”
Said her, “Like like?” Said he, “I like like you.”
She gave him a kiss on the cheek, and left him walking clouds.
What could make this so complicated? He would never figure out.
Each day, they walked home holding hands.
She princess, and he, the princess’ man.
Fast forward several years, the boy is now a young man.
She’s now moved far away, but he still remembers the feel of her hand.
Then one day, he meets this wonderful girl, and she sweeps him away.
No matter how hard he tries, he dreams of her every day.
Then one day he finally takes her for a walk, and as the sun sets,
He spins her round, “You know, you’re the prettiest girl I ever met?”
As golden rays kiss the shore, she whispers, “I like like you, do you like me?’
“Yes I do.” he says. Says she, “Like like me?” Says he, “That the case be.”
But in this land of fairy tales, stories don’t always have a happy ending,
And by and by, the prince found the princess was only pretending.
That ‘like like’ could be nothing but a lie was beyond his head,
As she left his crushed heart washed up on the beach for dead.
And so as the rain falls down, he shuffles home with icy tears.
Jagged, torn wounds that will bleed for years.
Weeping in a lonely dark corner, as he wonders how it could be,
That something so simple was now as twisted as could be.
Like like you. He puts his fist through the wall.
Like like you. I don’t like you at all.
He falls on his knees in the mud sobbing, wishing he was that little boy again,
Dancing through the meadows, with nothing to fear then.
But now he stands on the side walk, with pelting rain, empty words echo in his mind,
Corrupted innocence, marred virtue – he raises his hands to the sky and cries.
As the boy inside him dies . . . . . . .. … . . . . . in a land of fairy tales.
Story behind the poem:
In the words of Gotye, “You can get addicted to a certain kind of sadness.” What is it about heartbreak poetry, songs, etc? Maybe it’s because we can all relate to them? I don’t know. But I just thought of this one, and well, had to write it. (of course, it sounded so much better in my head. :P)
For those who are wondering, this was composed mentally while cycling at 30 kmph on a highway. 😀
photo by Alfred Borchard