Another Springfield Fugitive

Another Springfield Fugitive

I was sitting in Pret,

one wet and windy day,

in Fulham Broadway.

I was drinking tea

when he came towards me

I'm free, I heard him bellow

this crazed anonymous fellow-

I was discharged
from Springfield

no longer will I wield

to the guardsmen,
in that battlefield

I thought- how strange

was he really rendered free,

or was he just another 

Springfield escapee?

and how strange to cross paths

with another bummer,
another outlaw, another outpatient-
another runner.

Springfield, I asked him,

in Tooting?

I was routing

for him

for some reason
I was routing

for this coffee shop bogeyman

I was sectioned, came his reply.

But why?

Bi-polar.

My time came,

I was set free-

Three chances,

I need to get back

to Catford...

I took some coins

from my pocket

and handed them to him

and he left-

bereft, and grateful
(perhaps).

But by giving him 70p

would I help him to see

the light?

Or would he just scare

the living day-lights

out of ordinary people,

people like you and I

and everyone we know?

No!

Run,

mad one.

Run away from here,

but don't scare

others.

Hmm but maybe,

I should have asked him-

What's in Catford son-
That made you want to run
away? -don't lie.

And why
am I

tasked with you're escape?

Break free-

return, by turning

back now.

But how?

I remembered when

he had killed a man,

another Springfield escapee
who had been 'set free'-

where?

By a herd of deer

in Richmond Park.

I wondered then,

who lent him the money

to get there-

life is funny

but in a sad way.

May

we learn

from our mistakes.

-these silent aches,

may they not break

us. 

Once a friend

on the mend

went into Springfield

she escaped too

they brought her back,
(crack)
 in a police car

-scars were visible

she wanted to take her bones for a run

She did what she thought had to be done!

Without a penny to her name- she escaped,

and traipsed around Tooting Town.

What a strange world!

I know another who went in,
and did not come out the same

she did not remain herself,
she became someone else
a shell of her former self,
undertow-
She became,
someone I didn't know
or recognise. 

So many have walked
through the gates of Springfield-
-shield!
names I cannot name

for they must remain

anonymous.

But I swear,

they were there-
they were all there

and they all come out altered
-and they faltered perhaps

those women and men

in lab-coats
I mean, 

who knows what they did to them, 

help, brand or render them

outcasts.

Out-patients of this world, 

outlast them-

become 

one
someone

you can love.