NEVERLAND (the lost dream)

The first time I was there I walked slowly

Across the pebble pathway

The wind carried a wonderful warm scent of vanilla

Raising my head to breathe it in

Gazing at the sky

The sky a deep orange behind lavender clouds

At the end of the pathway sits a house

Surrounded by vibrant plants and flowers

Dark tree with red, pink and purple leaves

Falling gracefully on cobalt grass

I still can’t adequately describe

The feeling I felt there

As I neared the house

I could see a woman

Sitting on the front porch swing

with a child in her lap, a girl

And A young boy standing next to her

And I heard him say

“Look Mommy, it’s Daddy”

And then I woke up

dumbfounded, asking myself

Was that my wife, kids

I confused but mostly angry

Because I didn’t want to wake up

I didn’t want to leave

The second time I was there I didn’t walk

I ran

It was all the same

The vanilla scent, the soft warm wind

The colors of the sky

All of it

When I got to the porch the swing was empty

I sat and felt the smooth finish of the wood

Then I heard laughter in the back yard

I ran around the house and they were there

this time the little girl saying “Daddy”

Then I woke up

Every time I went back I tried to get closer

trying to see their faces

But I never could

I looked forward to sleep just to go back


The last time I was there

It was cold

Everything was black and gray

The house was empty

And then I saw him in the yard

The horned being with bloody eyes

And I knew what it meant

And I haven’t been there since

Going there was and is the reason I look forward to sleep

But I don’t get to sleep anymore

And I want to go home!

Because it’s more than just a dream


And I want my dream back

It’s where I wanted to be

It’s was my Neverland

But the pirates of the night took it away from me

And I haven’t seen it again

All I have left are the nightmares

And the devils

The devils come for me every night




Do you cry when you’re alone?

Do you whimper to the sound

Of another’s voice

Pounding fear into your mind

Grinding thoughts together

Into a dark festival of failures and mishaps

Perhaps it’s the torment

Of the thing that voice belongs to

Which places you under a frozen status

Of helplessness

Crippling you to where you’re eyes

Can see nothing more than a lost soul

Drooling it’s saliva of existence

Into a pool of nothing

Do you cry when you’re alone?

Do you perspirate in cowardice

Under a dark and frightening figure

As if you were swimming in the sun

Under the flaming humidity

Of a summer’s eve

Drinking from a sultry glass

The hot sizzling liquid magma

Of which is a cool drink

Raising the ever so rising temperature

Of fearful containment

Fanning out ever so slightly

Through the cracks of your character

Which you call bravery

Do you cry when you’re alone?

Do you spit, spew and vomit to

A gut full of tainted emotions

To the taste of unforgivable madness

The sickening germs of morality and compassion

Feeling the sting of confused love

A returned ring

Feeding the rage in your heart

As you sink your teeth into

A sweet a bloody liquor-ish whip

Which bites into the flesh of a child

Who begins to feel his hot urine

Stream down his hills of innocence

Do you cry when you’re alone?

Do you go to bed awake at night

Only to fall asleep in the morning

To dream of the small contained room

Filled with the screeching yells

Of your child’s voice

With echoing sounds of blood

Dripping on the floor

Splattering on the wall

The ripping of tearing flesh

Of a cracking whip

Against weak feeble skins

The smell of sour sweat

Hot liquor breath

Urine and sickening musk

To hear yourself saying

“I do it because I love you!”

When it was really

“I do it because I hate me!”

Waking to the visions of a floor

Made a pool of blood, beer and sweat

And a bloody sobbing boy who


Always there when you open your eyes

To remind you how you ruined

What could have been

A beautiful father and son relationship!








His name was Vernon Preston Wallace

He was born on January 17th

From that day on he became a legend

He was one of the most loving and genuine gifts

To grace this world

He had a smile as bright as sunlight

And a laugh that could fill a room with joy

He could argue with the best of them

And man did he make some awesome chilli

Every soul he touched was blessed

When others walked away

He never turned his back on me

He only pulled me closer

He knew all my truths and all my secrets

He understood the whys and how’s

Of what I did

And never looked down on me

I will remember all the long conversations

All the gaming sessions

All the times out

All the laughs and jokes

All the tears

All the warm embraces

And all the memories shared

He meant so much to me

He was more than just a friend

He was a father

He was a brother

He knows how much I loved him

And how much I will miss him

And rather than say goodbye

I will say

See you later

He was more than just a man

He was a hero

He was a savior


This poem is dedicated to the memory of Vernon Preston Wallace. May the world be brighter with the light he left behind.




The unconquerable struggle

Life can become an inconvenient hustle

A brother being hung

A brother killing themselves

By the tendencies of their own tongue

We inhaling too many clouds

We killing our lungs

And at the same time

Too much silence is being sung

Humans have a tendency to keep to themselves

That they struggling mentally

Not asking for help

Physically turning to the hustling ways

I lost two of my dogs to two bullets

In two days

Two grieving mothers

Mourning over two graves

Sold coke in kilos

While they snorted two trays

And constantly

They were tapping their wrist

Took too much liquid

Taken through the syringe

Veins in their arms

Popping up under their skin

People in the world

Are losing too many friends

Struggling and living in sin

It doesn’t end

Just an ongoing trend

Where the shit leave off

Is where the shit begins



He walks without purpose

Sleeps without rest

He is hallow

The vessel now empty


Always in searching

For what was lost

For what may never be regained

A shadow of former self

He sacrificed his soul

Gifting it to those he loved

Only to be forsaken

Only to be forgotten

A ghost among others

A spectator to the world

He walks

Always travelling

Always waiting

And now

He’s forgotten why

Yet he continues

A slave to his endeavor

A victim to his goal