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Author Name: FreeTashtego57 26 Comments
Date Added: November 09, 2009 17:11:12 Average Score: (Needs 2)
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Little Boy Alone in the Attic

Little boy sits alone in the attic

At seven years, itís his place of refuge.

Too hot, too cramped, too dirty for the others but

Perfect only for him


Iím in my submarine being attacked from above.

My brotherís that dirty German dropping depth charges.

He beats me up, but Iím smarter than him as

I sneak in the first torpedo.


I donít get why he doesnít get me,

My big brother, much older and tougher.

Maybe Iím just bad.

Thatís why he wonít play with me.


But he did grow up and go to sea

And not on a sub and not in a war.

Still his brotherís a mystery, even

Though heís bigger and stronger no more.





Little boy sits alone in the attic

At 10 tucked in, hidden in his lair.

Winterís cold, but not for a spy.

Is his Dad one?


James Bond is so cool with those sexy women

Soís The Saint and The Prisoner too

And Agent 86 is so dumb that heís cool

At least 99 thinks so.


My dad could be a spy,

So smooth and always smiling

But ready to explode or ignore me.

Such cruelty can come only to one trained.


But he did grow up and though

He wasnít a spy, he became a dad and

Was just as harsh or worse yet, neglectful

And lost at his fatherís demise.





Little boy sits alone in the attic

Too small for a boy of 13.

He thinks of being a body guard, for

At least then sheíll see him then.


If I knew Kung Fu, I could kick ass.

I could protect her from those who would harm

Sheíd have to see me and love me.

Or at best have to keep me around.


But why am I so clumsy, uncool and a dork?

Why am I weak and spastic, afraid of feeling a blow.

Why would she ever want me?

Why would she ever care?


But he did grow up and married a girl

Who didnít care he wasnít Bruce Lee

But he still cheated on her and mistreated her

And was not the protector he dreamed.





The boy is not little and the attic long gone

But the shell of self-doubting remains.

He still recalls the tears that fell

And he sheds those same tears today.

Author's Notes:
childhood refuge is a place to hide, a place to dream, a place to reflect - sometimes.
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Comment By: Freeisobelle on June 28, 2010 09:43:29 AM Report
This to me speaks of such loneliness all the way though, somehow maybe affection was absent from this little boys life which placed all sorts of problems on his shoulders.  It actually made me want to cry for this little boy especially as his tears seem as fresh as long ago :(  Enjoyed though so very sad, Issy x
Comment By: FreeAngel Wings on May 6, 2010 12:40:26 PM Report


This is a awesome poem. Really great write, so well penned.


Comment By: PremiumHOPE on April 21, 2010 09:18:03 AM Report
A sad poem, well written, full of emotion.


Comment By: FreeSophie on March 31, 2010 06:53:09 PM Report
I was really drawn in by your words. Its like I was really there, seeing that little boy and feeling his emotions. Well done good piece :) x
Comment By: FreeWith pain comes strength on January 26, 2010 06:01:23 PM Report
Wow! What a sad and moving write, am speechless....i was almost right there with the little the cold dark attic that was his refuge.

Another excellent piece!


Comment By: Trialyarneisha sallie on January 15, 2010 01:32:04 PM Report
this poem left me so speechless i like GREAT JOB
Comment By: FreeHannah Mae on January 8, 2010 08:39:17 PM Report
I really love the way you rotate from before to after, and back to the before. We get an all-around perspective, like we're sitting in the attic imagining or dreaming of the same thing. Well done!
Comment By: ModeratorJillian K. Alexis on December 27, 2009 11:22:50 PM Report
Bravo Andrew, your words blew me away, clear into next week!!! This is such a deep, sad write, but one I am sure needed to be penned. Fantastic, as always...Hugz...Jillian
Comment By: TrialSylvia on December 14, 2009 11:22:54 PM Report
I really liked it . The way you described the attic . Its a very sad and had to be hard to write.
Comment By: FreeAdelle on November 24, 2009 08:54:40 AM Report

wow. this left me totally breathless. Amazing work. It makes me miss my own childhood and how I use to play princess, house, and batman! LOL! (i'm off like that). hahaaa. Impressive work.

Comment By: FreeGrace Winter Wolf on November 21, 2009 11:53:35 AM Report

This poem brough smiles as you spoke of your brother and you in war games.  My brother and I did too.  Then when I read about James Bond I laughed out loud at first.  My dad loved 007.  So much in fact that his phone number to his FL homes last four digest were 0007 which he said made him a little better than Mr. Bond.  My father neglected too.  As I child he was more attentive.  I grew and by age 10, he was gone on his 007 games.  I understand your pain in this write.  Emotional pain is so heart wrenching that it causes the body to heave.  I feel that leaving me these days.  I have left my father at the mercy of God as he rests in the cemetary in FL.  
His pretty Bond woman lives on...I miss him so much.

This poem really brought up a lot of old feeling for me, I enjoyed very much reading it.  Please write more.

Grace Winter Wolf

Comment By: Freemaggie lopez sherry wilbur on November 19, 2009 11:13:43 AM Report
The beauty of being a child is forgiveness  and the beauty of growing up is learning from past mistakes and the beauty of family is good or bad they are still family  and in the end the dots will connect and you can reach happiness . I really enjoyed this poem .I look forward to reading more.Always Maggie.
Comment By: FreeSilkinTears on November 13, 2009 11:07:03 PM Report
Very deep thoughts here Andrew. I was drawn into the little boys fears and how the attic was his refuge. The thoughts and feelings of abuse and mistreatment, how he dealt with the confusion and the different stages of growth, then he grew up to become all he didn't want to be but now he was. Very touching and sad. I enjoyed this write Andrew.
Comment By: FreeAlison Storm Wolf on November 13, 2009 04:08:45 PM Report
Hello andrew, I enjoyed the way you returned to the memories and examined them to tune into the thoughts and feelings as though there again. You have written most thoughtfully and with great rawness and it was lovely to share.
Ali x
Comment By: FreePamela A. Lamppa on November 12, 2009 11:55:43 PM Report
There is profound sadness wrapped up in these bits of imagery.  How vulnerable we truly are.
Well done poet.  ~Pamela
Comment By: Freecolin skilton on November 12, 2009 04:50:24 PM Report
Ah Andrew that place of refuge we all had as childrennso real and a place of safety against the world, mine was an old tree in the middle of the woods l used to live by, it was hollow in the middle and big enough for a small boy to hide in.

Excellent words my friend and thankyou for the journey back to my safe haven


Comment By: FreeBarbara Demasson on November 12, 2009 02:10:13 PM Report
Great form and a vivid progression of events through different times in a child's life. I really love how you've done this Andrew...shedding light on the thoughts of a child, the unrealistic expectations and life changing influences of others. I applaud you for taking on a deep and meaninful piece like it fiction or truth it came from within and the reflections are those to which many will relate. I see room to tighten this up a bit but that is true of any piece. I can't believe you've only just started certainly know what you're doing. Touching and thought provoking piece. Bravo!



Comment By: FreeShe Whispers on November 12, 2009 01:48:16 PM Report
 Such sadness in this poem.. we all grow up and life sometimes just does not give us the gifts we want....
I do hope your life is happy now...
 Thank you for your very kind comments on my poems..
you always make me smile.....

Comment By: FreeAlfred on November 12, 2009 11:30:30 AM Report
Great poem in which I can really identify with. We have our childhood dreams of what we want to be

and sometimes they work out, but more often they don't.

Comment By: PremiumMary Lou Allen on November 12, 2009 08:14:15 AM Report
Growing up is no picnic. It's a hard life full of doubts and error. As you show, sometimes we grow up having not learned the lessons before us, making the same errors and harboring the same doubts. Well done. ML
Comment By: FreeThe Bag Lady on November 10, 2009 12:14:35 PM Report
Andrew.....You have certainly taken us into the Attic....shown us the small, young wondrous child, and through the years we were gifted with his thoughts, ideas and his fears...This was a unique presentation, one that I enjoyed thoroughly, and fell into the storyline all the way down the page..  Very well done, a true glimpse of a childhood refuge....
Margaret....the Baglady

Comment By: FreeAdri on November 10, 2009 09:24:09 AM Report
Sounds like a cool place.  Nice write, I like the random thoughts all coming together. A well written piece.  I am impressed
Adri x

Comment By: FreeCindy Bendel on November 9, 2009 11:39:17 PM Report
I am in total awe at your introspection and are authentic, real, and unafraid to show us the dark side.  I've always known this to be true...but I wish with all my heart that the ones that matter most could see this....You amaze me more everyday. 
Now, about the poetry writing.....outstanding! 
~Cindy xo

Comment By: FreeCindy Bendel on November 9, 2009 11:38:57 PM Report
I am in total awe at your introspection and are authentic, real, and unafraid to show us the dark side.  I've always known this to be true...but I wish with all my heart that the ones that matter most could see this....You amaze me more everyday. 
Now, about the poetry writing.....outstanding! 
~Cindy xo

Comment By: FreeAngelface on November 9, 2009 08:52:11 PM Report
Andrew, I'm so shocked no one has commented on this write! You out did your self on this write! Bravo! I can remember being a young lady and feeling trapped on the inside! I wanted to run and hide so no-one could find me! Until one day i grew up and finally I found the little girl within me had to choose to live or die, to get away from the things that nearly destroyed her life! Yep that was I, I survived  and gladly stand today to say.. no matter what a child goes through, they too can survive, if they choose too!


You my friend are a awesome writer!

Keep up the wonderful wk.


Comment By: FreeMoonStar on November 9, 2009 08:52:04 PM Report
WOW! This piece here said so much. Your imagery brought me straight inside. I felt that little boy, his thoughts.. Oh to be in one's mind, what a thing.. Memories, dark, happy, sad, transparent, we go through many. They bring us to places of make-believe, memories of yester-year. And the tears we shed are for what once was, now gone, lost like in a hourglass of time, oh how it passes so quickly..


This was perfection!


Moonie xx 


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