A storm was brewing like none from before

A metaphor to me from the rain

Heavy it falls, through the concrete and walls

What was seen and recalled not the same

Neglected in time when and why and what for, the mystery of the man with no name

The endurance of hate, the looks that would cut, the one we called lord of the lane

Has there been enough time, enough seasons and years

Was the distance to a man from a child

Enough to allay all the talk and the fears

Of the monster who would take and defile

Now broken and silent lay the remnants of then, it was said he was found on the floor

Perspective is blunt. Shame even more.

Those emotions that last and endure

Through a cracked window pane it had all come around, even more was revealed from within

The monster that was was not one at all

Any suffering endured was by him

There were papers and photos that layed at my feet

the walls told a story of rage

Broken old records told a tale of defeat , dessperation without deference to age

A Memory of them the article had read, too soon where they to have passed

Leaving him to live on for his wife she was dead

A week more would his son only last

It would go on, but for him it stood still

He had tried, oh he tried all those years

I’m sorry I said, I meant no ill will

For the taunting, the insults and jeers

What had he become when his life was undone, had I not given thought to all this

Like a song you forget and just can’t pin down

I would wonder what might have been his

A piece of my soul was left there that day

Those that followed would be spent to atone

For my guilt and my shame in some form or way

On that night I had felt so alone