Part II: The Ghost Child

I'll begin with The Children who came first...

Who have inspired me to inquire and join,

Brothers They seemed...Lovers perhaps...

Opposite sides of the same golden coin -

One...The Aristocrat with British dimensions

unresolved and unable to win,

The other...The face of a Ghost with intentions...

But He is no clone or no twin.

The Ghost Child (as I have called Him)

resembles a boy from my whispered past,

A reminder of all that seemed good

and of the reasons that friendships can last -

An antagonist to be sure

with all of the facets that the word implies,

But once you've looked beyond this

all you'll dislike are His good-byes.

Through my eyes He is an animal

prowling endlessly sandal clad,

Emerald-Amber eyes

melding with an expression seductively sad -

With deftly sculptured contours

masking an undeniable complexity,

He's a question to be asked...An answer to be found...

Never shallow, boorish, or easy.

This frightened Inspired Child...

This prisoner of incessant spite,

This born again virgin deciever...

This devil filled with light -

This desperate fallen angel...

With an adolescent's righteous might,

Is an enigmatic martyr/accuser...

A hero for the ravaged of night.

The wolf with the face of a choirboy...

The man with delinquent denials,

The slave with the mind of a master...

The boy who roars of defiles -

The masculine youth...Who sees the truth...

And at the last...Reconciles,

The Ghost Child haunts me with a glance...

And He is beautiful when He smiles.

© APRIL 1994 By Menes

*Author's Note* - The Boy That I Wrote This Poem About...

Well, I Had A Huge Crush On Him And I Never Told Him, Which

Seems Pretty Cowardly To Me Now; Very Un-Menes Like. So,