A Thing Of The Past


DSC03572.jpgI Sam Scribble bid farewell to a thing of the past.
Often lost in thought and ridiculed as such,
I was called “the dreamer” in the village
of my past, in the land of my ancestors.

My parents didn’t know what to make
of the habit, nor did my teachers, the
local parson, friends and foes alike.
This reverie lived on, a peaceful pastime.

As a child and youth, I was unhappy,
the youngest of ten, born in poverty & sin,
and ugliness added to my family’s notoriety.

There were dreams of becoming someone else,
or being part of a better family, village
or even class or species! Or simply like
the hero of some cinematic tale, contrary
to my dealings with family and peers.

My day-dreaming days are about to end,
replaced by prospects beyond the village
and into a virtual village, with my pastime
becoming a thing of the past.

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