Dickie Boy

Dickie Boy

Cheers blast from the radio,
A celebratory roar.
Crooked smile and self-mutterings,
Livid daydreams that his heart wept for.
Then comes the sharp smack,
Of the reality of his life.
Physically trapped chained inside,
Lives a dream within an old man..

Body half fragile and thin,
Left limbs scrunched stiff.
His mind is only a few years behind,
Living in a body with cerebral palsy.
Everyday he gets ready for work,
Picking up swung golf balls on the course.
Limping home to his lunch,
To waste away in his fabric armchair.

Inside his head he lives his dream,
Pocketing winning snooker balls.
Batting the ruby red cricket ball,
Or even striking down the bowling pins.
Champion gripping golden trophy,
Lightening flashes of the cameras.
Dickie! Dickie! they would all chant,
Sports championship that was hidden within.

Out for a day with his younger brother,
A football match that they watched together.
Exciting building blocks towered,
He can't help but commentate through the hour.
Intent ears following the words from his foamy lips,
The footballer sprints, aims then kicks.
Up into the air the ball sails high,
Gliding down into the winning net.

Goal! is screeched from every fan,
Earthquake shuddering as they all jumped up.
He punched air with his only open hand,
Suddenly approached by an important man.
How well you did reporting this match,
Everyone was gripped by your words.
Dickie boy had now been offered his dream,
Unaware his self-muttering had even been heard.

L.J.B