RowinHood - Abandoned

I came to Poland on the 14th of may, school trip to an orphanage,

said it would be the best of the year, seemed ok.

When we arrived, first thing that happened, walk of fame.

Little kids giving me a hand with my suitcase.

Didn't know what to expect to be honost.

The rest of the day, literally no contact. They didn't even bother.

Felt like we weren't welcome to help them with their welfare.

So i ended the day by sitting in silence, only communicating with the Dutch who were there.

Seemed weird.

 

Second day, more room for jokes and laughter,

started repairing the rooms and talking at diner followed after.

Made a little buddy named Fabian, the most special of all of 'em.

Had a connection and played football as i bonded with 'em.

So strong yet so simple, based on the fact i couldn't even talk with 'em.

Polish-Dutch, didn't really work, doing it with gestures as i walked with 'em.

Only words i knew in Polish were nastier than dirt.

Made some new brothers in the house, some others didn't do.

But this kid seemed special. Why? Got no clue.

 

Third day, we chilled around the house, talking to all of the kid.

Most came about as playful, i even wrestled with the young boys, they were fond of it.

But something was in the water, backgrounds were hidden.

I knew they were all there as a result of the most harmful drug, parents couldn't care for their chldren because of a liquid.

Chose to shove the problems under the rug.

Volunteers trying to avoid the kids from transforming into thugs, selling bags of drugs.

See them sitting and thinking of the liquid-formed demon that once made them this way, as they glock back another mug.

Children rotting away, abandoned as i tried to zone out, only able with the calmth of my earplugs.

 

Fourth day, planned activities before the farewell and we played. Competing in two teams.

We even won, without having to use schemes.

That night, something i couldn't believe.

Discovered something still haunting me in my dreams.

Full of emotions i was seen.

As we stood in the hallway at the night of goodbyes,

there was me and another guy starting to form tears out of our eyes.

The two biggest dudes, couldn't swallow the pride,

instead gave into the feeling buried deep inside.

Fabian, standing right in front of me,

didn't know what was going on, asking for it desperately.

Till this lady told him this was the last time he would see me.

A kid lost everything he got, formed a rare bond so quickly, he fragmented into a hundred pieces because of disbelief.

Held on to me so dearly as he thought that would keep me,

from floating away into the deep.

 

That night, our Dutch mentor went upstairs to all the little boys,

they showed him where in the world they wanted to once go, when they were old.

Fantasies coming alive, although one kid left it cold.

Fabian sitting in the corner, scratching open his toes.

Blood over his feet, hands and it mold,

the kid who thought he won a friend yet that friend needed to let go.

Self-mutualation at the age of 8, blamed himself for the rampage.

Went to hell and back, now i wonder what it's made.

Where is this young boy looking so cheerful?

Played with me the day before, yet deep inside secretly fearfull.

I will never know how he turned out

and if he would see me now, would he remember me?

Or was i just the one who needed him so desperately?