Second Born ~ Saturday, December 13, 2025

Where Sanderson Lane turns to Warfield Drive

When I spun around, all I felt was pain
how I walked in front of Danny, the bat
emerged swinging, he was next at the plate
really, I was clueless, blood from my brain
exactly not, from out my nose, gushed red

Sanderson Lane, where the boys played, I spat
and ran inside our house, never too late
not knowing how to stop the flow, the sink
did not do the trick, cold water, I bled
effervescent flow, my head was held back
ready to drive to the ER was dad
second son was too much trouble, the crack
of the baseball bat broke my nose, my bad
not that we said that way back when, I wink

Left to sort out, mom kept me calm, back seat
at the hospital, sat in a wheelchair
neat for a kid, but not today, I cried
emotional tears, in life, I was beat

take a moment to reflect, eight years old
under the influence of unaware
resort to smart but yes, I could have died
not only that, I could have been blinded
simply lucky, a broken nose, stay gold

then X-rays, then go home and rest, no school
on Monday, but I liked Wardlow, my friends

Warfield Drive, where Ricky lived, thread the spool
as I remember, trouble never ends
remembrance of things past, no one minded
flames, gasoline, police, fire department
if I wanted attention, nothing good
endlessly stupid, ever afterwards
lift the veil, before me, dysfunction bent
difficult as a kid to learn, latch-key

Drive me back to childhood, since adulthood
revels in my failures, not in the cards
if I were good back then, all the difference
versions of the story, nothing makes sense
ever since my nose broke, guilty, my plea