For an entire childhood,
Spent until bankrupt, growing down,
Because, even when,
Predictable storms stopped raging,
Puddles, of unthinkable depth,
Were left in it’s brief wake,
Muddy, never-clear surfaces,
Cast rippled reflections,
That reminded them of their past,
Nothing ever changed, and doppelganger pallbearers,
Carried the coffins of dead selves,
But at least their feet were dry?!
No. Not even that.
* wellies are rubber boots or wellingtons