A boyish boy (or Home)

"A boyish boy you are", said he,
the ghost of Christmas past.
I though he laughs at tears, but no,
his smile was kindly cast.

That’s boy:
“I cannot get it, sir, so please,
explain to my this life,
my hair is grey, but deep inside,
I feel like I was five”

“Like everybody else I try,
like grownups try to be,
to find a job, make money, home,
with breakfast drink my tea”

“But even if I try my best,
I’m lost, I’m lying not,
and deep inside I really know,
this world is not my home”

“So what advice you have, what aid,
what wisdom can you give?
Can man like me, a troubled soul
find peace, his realm to live?”

That’s where I ended speech, and looked
at window dark, deep night,
The Christmas ghost went home I guess,
and so must I embark.