Boys Will Be Boys (The Spirit of Adventure)
Long, lazy, summer-time,
school holidays,
Feeling frowsy in the long dry
grass, so bored.
Waiting, languidly, for things
to happen:
The itch for excitement that cannot
be ignored.
It’s time for adventure, or some
trouble:
Thrills don’t just come, so need
to be sought out.
They all wanted to be a part
of it,
None of them by cowardice
caught out.
Who’s leading, who’s
following, who’s daring?
Who’s going to be involved
quite fully?
Who’s pushing who to make the
first move?
Who’s the scaredy-cat, and
who’s the bully?
It’s become a matter of
honour to go,
No-one wants to appear the baby
child,
Egging each other onwards to
the place,
Three boys, scared to hold
back, running wild.
The house stands deserted and
forlorn,
Behind its barrier of tangled
wire,
Its broken windows like empty
sockets,
Tumble-down, decrepit and so dire.
It’s a simple target to be
raided,
Undergrowth to keep them
quite hidden,
Forcing down the old, broken
back door,
Past where it says “Entry Is Forbidden”.
Plaster has fallen away from dirty
walls,
Damp, mouldy, a smell that’s
musty,
Broken floor-boards, glass
everywhere,
Mouse-droppings, filthy and
dusty.
Here was once the lounge, now
long deserted,
A kitchen with many pipes
hanging out.
They don’t think about the
people who lived here,
Too busy exploring, and running
about.
Here is a place with
possibilities,
A secret space for a ghoulish
game.
No limit to a child’s
imagination,
Or the ideas that are in the
frame.
A new head-quarters for their
gang,
A pirate’s cave, or hidden
treasure,
A robber’s den, a secret
hideaway,
To torture their enemies at
leisure.
But what if someone already
comes here?
Beggars, or thieves or a
filthy tramp?
How can it be made safe and
secure?
How to establish their own camp?
Rooms up above must be inspected,
In case someone else is
hiding there.
Their voices fall into edgy
silence,
Gathering below the bottom
stair.
The youngest one is pushed up
to the front,
Nervous and trembling,
fearing the worst,
The older ones standing right
behind him,
Bullying, taunting, making him
go first.
He wants to decline this stupid
challenge,
His fear is building, and he feels
like crying,
But the others will not let
him stop now:
He cannot get away – no sense
in even trying.
Then, too soon, it’s spinning
out of control,
They threaten him with
torture, calling names.
Challenging him, shoving him forward,
It’s gone beyond their normal
childish games.
The mood has turned quite
nasty,
And the laughter has faded
away.
They prod him and push him
upwards,
They force him – they will
have their way.
He bites his lip, and
swallows hard.
Though he is trembling and
shaking,
He starts to mount the broken
risers,
Fearing the dangerous steps
he’s taking.
Near the top, his panic
rises,
But he never hears the creaking
sound,
As he falls through the
crumbling structure,
Screaming, arms flapping all around.
A crashing noise and then the
silence,
The dust and debris soon stop
falling,
The older boys stand stunned,
amazed,
Then for their friend start yelling,
calling.
He does not answer, lying
there quite still.
They know the situation’s far
from good:
They run away in a frantic
panic,
Leaving the body in its pool
of blood.
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