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I never thought
I’d lead this
Life of crime
No, not life but
A brief existence
Saturated with bright
Colours, and now
This grey cycle
Of tedium instead

Those childhood
Dreams. I felt
Them. Too, I
Lived them.
Each night.
In my head.
They are gone.
This monochromatic world
A poor substitute.

I have learnt
To love my crimes
Now they are gone.
A path I can never
Take again, or choose.
And yet, crimes
They were not.
A criminal
Of their making.
A criminal betraying
Their ignorance.
A victim of
The very victims.

Those deeds of good
Were taken from
Me, turned into
Something sallow.
One day, awakening
From the slumber
Of their foolishness
They will see
What they are.
My crimes will
Defiantly, be that
No More.