There we were, Mark one and Mark two,
With tramlines in our school ties
Ambling over the old tramlines
That ran parallel with the premises.
But no parallel could be drawn,
My crooked path seemed at odds with everything
Though I was now befriended, and together,
We were strewn off the beaten track
Like the empty beer cans before registration,
(I could face things better with these blinkers on).
His chin was always up though,
His tanned face mimicked determination,
Going forward always away from something,
Ruffling off the bitterness of a broken home.
As we trampled over the nettles that protruded
Onto our path; the cyclists would race ahead
Directing us toward freedom,
Though in our minds we were only
Bound for the chip van.
And now the sun melted through our
Days and onto the tops of the woods,
As we steered away from the
Perimeters of academia.
He walked slightly in front,
His strong, taut forearms cruised by
The wildflowers at our side,
I looked over my shoulder thinking
How I didn’t want to return,
But with regret I knew I would have to.