By
PART ONE
I
From atop a hill lived a boy in a cave,
with mangy black hair and no razor to shave.
He’d sit on a rock and long for a lover.
Just like the girl on the magazine cover.
It’s lonely, you see, in a dark cave at night,
unless you find a hobby to give you light.
The boy gathers treasures from many places-
like books and papers with pictures of faces.
He wipes it away when he looks at his wall.
He dances to music he hears in his head,
with girls in pictures he has pinned by his bed.
But when winter comes and the wind gets too cold,
the boy feels a chill and has no one to hold.
Tears fall more often and he feels lonely still-
(hard not to be sad in a cave on a hill).
II
When spring flowers bloom to bring us elation,
The cave boy steps out of his hibernation,
He runs all the way down to breathe the fresh air,
He runs to the river and washes his hair.
It is at the river that he hears stamping,
And hammering tent poles, setting up camping.
He sneaks through the trees trying not to be seen,
He pokes out to see a girl of about sixteen.
Three girls all share laughter as they talk of tales
Then set out with two boys to explore the trails.
The cave boy curled up at the foot of the tree
Wondering how fun being normal must be.
He drifted off into dreams of dance and song,
He napped just a bit, but he dozed not too long
awakened by music and cheers of delight,
He came out in the open and caused a fright.
III
In the firelight they saw, strange thing he was,
a cave boy with matted black hair and beard fuzz.
The girls all three shrieked while the boys picked up rocks,
Till one girl said “Stop!” as she brushed her curled locks.
Said the gentle young lady, “We’ve frightened him so.”
She walked over to him and she knelt down low,
She took him by the hand and asked, “care to dance?”
He looked in her eyes and fell into her trance.
It was hard to believe what was happening then,
They danced not just once but once more and again.
They waltzed and they tangoed as the gang joined too,
Around the campfire flame, as the heat grew.
But soon it was late and time to say goodbye,
For the boy to go back to his cave up high,
And let a tear roll on his cheek as he went,
while leaving the dancer asleep in her tent.
PART TWO
IV
Seasons changed and the sun shined brighter,
If he’d known her address-well, then he’d write her!
She was kind to him so and worth thinking of,
He couldn’t help remember she’d shown him love.
For many long nights he’d lay awake in his bed
With memories of the music still in his head.
Always in his mind, brown hair and so pretty.
He chose to pack up and leave for the city.
He had a knapsack and gathered what he could,
put on his sweatshirt with the zipper and hood,
He trekked down the hill, through the forest by feet,
To the end of the woods, to streets of concrete.
He stuck out his thumb and he hitched for a ride,
Not one person would stop, but still the boy tried.
With thoughts of the girl who would be his lover,
just like the one on the magazine cover.
V
On the road the boy walked and kept on going,
No truck seemed to notice, no car was slowing,
Till then came a bus quite occupied but large,
“ride free today, son,” said the driver, “no charge.”
And so the bus took him, to the big city,
through districts bustling with much activity.
It went down long streets till it came to a stop,
“I’ll let you off right here at the barber shop.”
The boy stood and thought, ‘what a place I’ve been led!’
With a pole by the entrance with stripes of red.
He’d never had a haircut, never before,
He walked up the front steps and opened the door.
The barber looked twice at the hair on his head,
He gave a pondering look and then he said,
“seems as if you must’ve been raised by a bear,”
(which he indeed was, just so that you’re aware).
VI
The boy looked by his feet, where clumps of hair lay
as the barber snipped and clipped and shaved away.
There’d be no more curtains trailing past his knee,
just a breeze up top where it all used to be.
And the worried boy had no money to pay
But the barber, he said, in a kindly way
“I can see by your state you must be quite poor,
I’ll call it even if you help sweep this floor.”
When all was done, said the barber to the boy,
“If looking for work, I’m looking to employ,”
The boy got a job, being useful with a broom,
A place to stay, too, in a small cellar room.
He bought sharp-looking clothes and dressed up real neat,
he went out at night to walk along the street,
but he’d never forget why he left his cave-
for a dancer’s love and the kindness she gave.
PART THREE
VII
For a cave boy who never set foot there before,
The city was full of great things to explore,
But wandering through crowds as the lampposts shone,
Still he felt so small and still so much alone.
He’d line up at the clubs, every one he spied,
But every time he did, he’d always be denied.
“Sorry, no entrance, you’re far too much a runt,”
Said every bouncer once he got to the front.
In sadness, the boy would sit outside and mope,
‘They’ll never let me in,’ he thought without hope-
‘til he spotted a way to sneak in the back,
Found a window that was open just a crack.
He opened it more and he climbed up the wall,
And fell with a crash into a bathroom stall.
But he made it-by gosh, how he took a chance!
Next thing to do was find a lady and dance.
VIII
Out in the open while music was blaring,
Several heads were turned, several more were staring.
He didn’t understand-he thought he looked neat.
He found a stool at the bar and took a seat.
A lady sat sipping wine, red, like a rose,
Her eyes looked him over and up at his clothes
-at his bowtie and jacket with colors clashin’,
And she said, “boy, who taught you about fashion?”
He turned and said, “you look lovely tonight, miss.”
He leaned in to her cheek and gave it a kiss.
Then with a slap his face was red as can be.
Then the bartender said, “Do you have I.D.?”
He was asked to leave and was escorted out-
To sulk and walk back to his cellar to pout.
To shed a tear for his lost dreams of romance
For love he can’t find and no lady to dance.
IX
For a cave boy, the city’s no place to roam,
He packed up and left for the woods he called home.
He said bye to his boss at the barber shop,
And stood outside waiting for the bus to stop.
He rode the bus, followed a trail through the trees,
and settled back in his cave to catch some zees.
Come morning he went to the river to swim,
And he found a brunette teen looking at him.
She stood as he swam to reach her at the shore,
And she took his hand so they could dance once more.
“but I’m ugly,“ he said, “and scrawny don’t you see?”
Said the dancer to the cave boy, “not to me.”
