My Colleague 12/1/09

He was only a boy.
Well, that was a lie,

He was a fully grown adult of twenty five
His bushy brown stubble and twinkling eyes,
Only marred by a subtle withering slouch
In the elasticity of his cheerful disguise.

But this playful complexion shone so bright
As he talked about wild wasted days and of nights
Spent drinking and vomiting, fucking and smoking
And laughing and watching the late city fights.

He was only a boy.
And I liked him.
But I was jealous of him.

For how could a man who had so much potential
Waste his faculties both physical and mental
And still be regarded as a figure of substance
Who considered toilsome pursuits incidental

To him getting shitfaced was far more important
Preferring to batter his brain until dormant
Pursuing an active and varied sex life
Resentful was I of this dazed adult infant.

He was only a boy.
And I liked him
Everyone liked him.
And I was jealous, for he was happier than me.

I knew him because we sat side by side
In a job in which neither of us had much pride
A much better worker than many or most
The sack came to him with a thump of surprise

A forbidden smoke of a fag was his crime
And his contract revoked as a hefty fine
Being drunk didn’t help him their minds were made up
I miss him and hope he’s still happier than I.

He was only a boy.
And if he grew up, I would consider him a threat.