Peter, You've Become A Pirate - this isn't my usual kind of writing - maybe aimed at a younger audience - thought I'd give it a go nonetheless - I knew a boy of just fourteen, well, he turned forty two. He gave away is feathered hat, and his loved flute, too. He traded in his pocket watch, for what I do not know. His clothes, once made of autumn leaves, Lay rotten in the snow. A happy thought; once natural, now so far away. And so is his most precious gift; to fly - through night and day. He lost his love for his lost boys, and his fairies too. I think it’s very likely, that he lost his marbles too. So what about young Wendy? Does he no longer care? He brought her to his Neverland, because he loved it there. The trees a luscious green, the seas a tranquil blue, the way that people stay the same, as though time just stood still. But no, his boots remain hung up, his dagger tucked away, I guess he must have caught his shadow - Or lost it at midday? I wonder if he can recall, the way to Neverland; You take the second star on the right and go ‘til you hit land? But what remains of my friend now, That all of this is gone? Well he has grown a greasy beard, and owns a cap-lock gun. He sails upon the Jolly Roger in place of Hook and Smee - his quest to loot and pillage lands he used to fight to free. It is so plain and crystal clear - Oh, Peter don’t you see it?! While burning all your precious bridges, you’ve become a pirate.