Here's To Never Growing Up
He dreamt of a far away place,
Where his wild imagination was embraced;
By graceful mermaids immersed in a lagoon,
And a tribe of Indians who danced under the moon.
But all was put to an end soon,
By the ruthless pirates who struck at noon.
But even in his nightmares,
Where everything would scare,
And he had to remain aware,
He was content;
For his fantasies were wisely spent.
Until they were no more.
And as the night wore,
He would wake,
To a house that would rattle and shake.
On the door pounded his knuckles,
To which the young boy would only chuckle.
Some might say he was hysteric,
But he had good reason;
For his dad was truly barbaric.
On the door he pounded,
Like thunder his voice sounded.
Into the room he broke,
Reeking of beer and smoke.
Loose from its hinges came the door,
And went clattering to the floor.
But Peter wouldn't hide anymore.
Nowhere to run.
At least Dad didn't have his gun.
Nowhere to hide.
But still he cried.
Where the skin just became brand new,
He turned black and blue.
But Daddy still wasn't through.
Ashamed of himself Peter once had felt.
But after a few welts,
From not only the back of his hand but his belt,
Disappointed he became,
With his daddy's bad game,
He only had to blame.
Fall no more did the rain,
Because there were no more tears that remained.
With a loud smack,
There came a jarring crack,
And everything went black.
Until he dreamt where his dreams were now sweet,
And from where he would no longer have to retreat.
For there was nothing to fear,
And never again must he disappear.
He was taken by the hand,
To a place called Neverland.
Where he swam with the mermaids in their lagoon,
Danced with the Indians under the moon,
And sparred with the pirates until noon.
It was his dad he forgave;
For he was at peace now deep in his grave.
To the second star on the right,
He took flight,
And rode on till morning.
And it only took faith,
Tust,
And a little bit of pixie dust.