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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
"Age Seventeen, burns a bonfire in Berlin."
I was recently contacted by an unknown young man, who was looking for his long-lost brother with the same name as me. This is a poem that sprung from that incident. It is about mistakes, forgiveness and life in general. Enjoy.

Submitted: May 06, 2008

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Submitted: May 06, 2008



Age Seventeen, burns
a bonfire in Berlin.
The spread and orange glow,
streaking through moonlight
flowing crowds as they gawp
and gasp.

Age Twelve and into the world
you delve, deranged and full
of comedic value; insistent to
take on the injustice of it all.
But the more you burn, fierce
and raging, the more you give,
and underneath that pierced heart,
the subtle undertones of blinding hurt
and a longing for this so called hope that
glows from your bubble girlfriend.

Age Ten, the world
throws you away;
my counterpart,
my namesake.

And somehow,
Eight years later,
your brother, 
Running miles and
miles to find you,
Is still searching,
And still wondering
where on earth
you ended up.

I can see you,
And you can see him,
And he can see you,
my counterpart.
I have your name,
But not your brother.

Age Nine and the world is full
of sorrow, a confused memory
and your dad is dead; he burned
himself out, and now so are you

Age Four and here am I again,
Loved but undeserved, surely
deserted, surely forgotten?

Here is the door, and I will
go through it.
Here is the light, and I am
held tight.

Aged now and bitter broken,
Here am I again, Eighteen
years older from the life giving
soldering iron that fused me

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