Born in the summer of ’43.
A victim of war.
Sent away at three.
Live a different life -
Learn how to let it be.

Sheltered by love around the fire
Like an Indian child
Returned at six
Not a life as he remembered it
Being raised in the sticks

Far away from the guns that roar
An innocent child
A victim of war

Not quite sure if he’s coming or going
Grew up not quite knowing
Thrown to and fro from a stable shore

Always remembered but not quite known
Love as he needed
Of a settled home

Father a member of the forces
He, a child of five
Left with relatives unknown

Felt abandoned by mother
Father always gone
Rebelled in a world of being alone

Feelings of being a society misfit
Taken by the music of a country not his
Lost in the dark clouds of trying to escape

The painful hurt of abandon
With an unsettled home
He came and went and came and went
Before he learnt to hide behind another door
To become a victim of a worse flaw

Self preservation is what he saw
To deal with a life of being a victim of war

Take on an alias
Learn to forget
The feelings of hurt from being left so young
With a life so distraught

Studied as hard and as long as he could
Economic structures
But it did no good
He was lost in the woods
Of music known from a country of past

Followed the rhythm of his heart
Rebelled against the society he knew
For the hurt and pain it put him through
And many a waters travelled under the bridge
Before we met

And love has a way of opening up old wounds
We were no exception in the ‘Paradise of Fools’
For as they say ‘only fools fall in love’
And we both ‘fell’…
From our morals
Our virtues too
And that is what makes us fools

As we sat in the restaurant crowded with life
Me by his side as the dutiful common-law wife
His voice lifting high with crescendos of sound
As the tears slowly travelled down
His mother’s face
From memories found
Hurled at her anew

Full of the anguish of his pain of the past
As a victim of war that’s what I saw
A man longing for the love from the childhood he lost
And the coming and going still goes on to this day

For no one can take painful childhood memories away
Except one’s self….
By learning the value of the wise words:
Forgive and forget….

- © C J Lewis, Katoomba, NSW 1995


C J Lewis

Joined March 2008

  • Artist
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