Hidden in a wooden hollow lost boys answer to one man, it is not the Pan they follow, he would be an also-ran. Lost boys search within themselves, and not in some delinquent elf. Childhood will melt away, no more in Neverland to stay!!
Your journey has ended, by your hand and much too soon. You, the buffoon, the clown, the genius bringing joy to the world. But, for what it’s worth, who gave you mirth? Your torment was an illness, your illness was your privacy. In the shadows of a mind so sharp, that spark of madness run amok. You had been stuck for a while and the smile you wore tore your heart to shreds. We laughed at your brand, and demanded more of you but, you had given enough. It is tough that you didn’t save some for yourself. We took you seriously when your dramatics gripped us. It ripped us as well, your living hell of which you would tell, of powders and pills and rivulets of distilled potions, notions of answers left un-questioned; too many to mention. You’ve gone back to the egg. You have been silenced like Ellen James. Long did you stand as the grown-up Pan. You have sucked the marrow out of this life. There is no Doubt (the) fire has gone out. It makes us want to shout, Oh Captain, My Captain! Thank you for your gift, we’ve enjoyed it while it lasted. And in our hearts you will live within a smile. What dreams may come, you will greet us. You will meet us with a joke in tow. We know your journey has ended. The Genie has been freed. The Buffoon. The Clown. The Genius indeed. Oh, Captain, Bon Voyage!
I spend my days in a haze, one foot in Neverland the other in Oz. I’m just a lost boy who wants to go home. Shadows have been sewn and yellow brick roads show the way, but I’d just as soon have stayed in one place. I would shoot the moon in the lagoon as I disgraced the hook-handed bandit, and once landed in Munchkinville, I could surely have stood above the crowd. But, wicked witches are less bitches and more just manipulative wenches. I’m not happy giving claps to fairies And in the trenches Smee would flee from a battle with me. Yet, my heart and mind become unraveled traveling between Neverland and Oz, that’s because the second star to the right is no place like home!
Lost boys never quit dreaming, scheming of ways to stand their ground with a new found respect for their abilities; the agility of a Pan, and the nervous sense of self not withstanding. Demanding much from what hope they can muster, they may get flustered from time to time, but are never out of the game; never the same, they become stronger the longer in the tooth they find themselves. Old gents hold those glowing embers well into their Decembers. They remain members of life’s fraternity. Battles waged and lost, and hard-fought victories over hook handed bandits lands us firmly on our feet, ready if we chose to roam. But the hope of lost boys will eventually bring them home when villains are vanquished.