"D-D-D-Dummy," (Innocence Lost)

Cold Caes#5 ______“D-D-D-Dummy"_____ Innocence Lost Not to really be known as my (God given), name, this label that has encrusted me, for it’s them, I blame. A young youth at heart never to have even drove, yet my body was found in the old mills grove. My story now told, from which now, it"s known, murky still waters, forever to be called home. To begin my tale, I must rewind my plight, a horrific dark crime and an even violent, of a fight. In early one spring like all kids as you know, I left from my home, my last passage, through home door. My day like any day, I reluctantly entered my class, not knowing this day, would forever be the last. All the usual suspects, no different than yesterday, taunted and badgered, the regular games bully play. My routine never to be changed, due to fear of reprisal, my only secured means, of ensuring my survival. Dummy was my label, the title that was gave, this name, that they swore, I would one day, carry to my grave. A name not fitting nor was it to be true, a straight (A) student, valedictorian in (all) classes, now I ask you. My affliction, I stutter, no fault of mine to be found, a childhood illness, that stole the use of my sound. Like all things good, they tend to break not bend, this moment of subliminal serenity, will abruptly, come to an end. At three o’clock the bell rings and I reach frantically, for my coat, I reach in my pocket and out comes, this tattered,torn note. Source of its origin to me unknown, I reach into another pocket and I swear the letter appeared, surely cloned. Now hampered with a stutter, each palpitation of the heart, felt as though, my placing the horse, behind the cart. Unaware what was waiting for me outside, I knew this day, there was no running nor safe place to hide. What did I do to them, what did I wrongfully say, why can’t all of this nonsense, just magically go away? A question, easy to ask, though the answer, spawns clouds of grey, each step that I took, towards freedom, dear (God),did I pray. Just two more blocks and I-I-I ma-ma-made it, though this day, unlike all others, my home, will seem, many miles away. I can’t describe the feeling inside, when hunted liked animals of prey, those are the times, I contemplate suicide, when tricks of the mind, take play. Have you ever laid in suspension, on a green meadow, on a dewy morning day; these are the scenes, that will have escaped me,on this brisk wintery day. As you well know, my face dawned the first blow, leaving me dazed, dismayed and un-respondent, blow after blow, target acquisition,each connect, as they yelled gestures of despondence. What away to go, (13) an innocence, wrongfully accused, judged and sadly lost. Hang with the crowd, you would fervently preach to me, (well ma), what a hell of a cost. When they found, remnance of my remains, down in the, old groves mill, sleeping dogs left lie, now flutters, barks then cry and wondering rumors, began to stand still. When all came to all, the "Mills grove (7)"(came to be known), dropped the ball, and spends time now, not chasing but being chased... So me, now I can rest, the foot placed forward, truly my best, i stutter no longer and up here, my name remains not (Dummy), but simply, Mark West………………………………………….. ! Jim

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