JOHNNY-COME-LATELY

"Who, who would you like to be,
When you grow to be older like me?"
They would ask the little boy Johnny.
"I," Johnny would reply, "a nightmare would like to be,
A nightmare that comes in the dark and flaunts
Its horror and terror in the mind's little haunts."

Then Johnny became a little bit older,
Becoming just a little bit bolder.

"Who, who would you like to be,
When you grow to be older like me?"
They would ask the big boy Johnny.
"I," Johnny would reply, "a despair would like to be,
A darkness and anguish and PAIN, the kind of despair,
That is numbing and intense, till you lose all care."

Then Johnny became a little bit older,
Becoming just a little bit bolder.

"Who, who would you like to be,
When you grow to be older like me?"
They would ask the young lad Johnny.
"I," Johnny would reply, "a suicide would like to be,
In the heart and mind and soul gently tending
Thoughts of the dying, and the end of all ending."

Then Johnny became a little bit older,
Becoming just a little bit bolder.

"Who, who would you like to be,
Now that you're older like me?"
They would ask the man who was Johnny.
"I," Johnny would reply, "anything but Johnny would like to be,
I no longer want his nightmares and his despairs and his crying
For there has to be more to life than a life only spent dying,
For Johnny's life is not lived if his life is spent dying!"

March 2007