To God, we all ran

I remember you
I would have killed myself too
Better yet
I would have killed that man in that bedroom
For what he did to you

But there’s nobody else to remember you
Nobody that cares about you
Not even I do

Don’t hate me for that
How could I possibly hold onto the fact
I got given a different room
In an abandoned house we as kids slipped into

We all ran
To God, we all ran
When the upstairs door banged
And we heard, and now understand
How hard
How hair-quiveringly hard
A little boy can scream

Forgive us for that
A boy will only fear a man
And to survive, which we had to do
We had to detach from the horror of what happened to you

Barry died in a bedroom
Swinging on a fist sized noose
A poor nipper, no hidden talent no new-world thinker
All he had was time
And all I remember was that he was a good goal-kicker

Nobody cares about you
I could never bring myself to
I didn’t have the heart to

One day, my son might write a poem about you
To immortalise you
The least I can do

I remember you, Barry
I care about you, Barry
You deserved better, Barry