Peter Pan

On a cold Thursday night
In an empty city by the sea
All one heard were the roars of your youth through the engine of your Harley

As your sound disappeared in the distance
The houses on your street returned to their peaceful facades
Filled with men who would not dare live as free as you

On a broken highway surrounded by mountains, the mist of the grey city touched your cheeks
Your lungs were filled with exhilaration and delight
You had found your serenity again tonight

The loyal helmet your carried offered you security from the tricks of time
Covering the thinness of your once curly black hair
The trait that most stood out when you were in your prime

Again, it seemed like your body was betraying your soul
How could you not fight the autumn shadowing your life with the summer within you?
How could the magic dye not stop the roots of decay from growing?
Or the lines on your face from showing?

My Peter Pan
You're every man
Who dared to dream of an eternal spring