Duality of the lie as a young kid

I wrote a poem 30 some years ago and it is somewhat hard to follow as I was a young teen. But the general theme is traveler and a reincarnation personified as a confused traveler and a space ship. Please note I had just started being intrigued by philosophy when after asking my grandma if a bhudists would go to heave and she said they would not.

There was much to learn being new to this world; yet so few to learn from, seemed nobody cared. I asked to be taught so they sent me to school; I asked to be cared for so they sent me away.

Then I met my new found young friend; he was troubled and bitter, yet held it all in. Why would anyone, I wonder, hold so much in; I felt unsure and un-trusted, hardly a friend.

I asked many questions, of my new found friend; he was scared and confused, my questions not helping. His answers were vague, hardly at all to the point; for nothing was simple, not even their language.

With a million to choose from, and all so unclear, their words impossible, yet spoken so well. Languages so different in all parts of their world; not even to consider the gap they called generation.

Knowing none of this helped, my new found friend, who was troubled and worried, about one single word. The word was alcohol, but synonymous with spirits and liquor. His dad seemed to be one, and off in a world.

This world was do different, than the one they lived in, it affected a part in the top of their head; A mind altering drug, was but one simple meaning; It was the only one legal, yet abused by all.

It abused the innocent, let alone the individual; but the person had rights, til too late for the rest. A way of escape, just one more mystery unexplained.

But then I remembered the world I’d seen last; A world with the same problem, a need to escape. It wasn’t a drug, yet so much the same, they called it fiction, a myth or to lie.

I mourned for my friend, he needed me now; but I had to go on, so much to learn. He seemed to get help though, from someone who cared, and I stopped in a building, they called it “to pray”

And I knew there was hope for this busy world, for they had this word, I think it was law; that I thought would get rid of this tragedy and injustice, for alcohol was organic, a controllable substance.

It was time to leave now, this confusing world; I’d learned so little, for time was too short; but I felt really special, they called it “love”.

And as I waited, I had time to still learn; their book of meanings, “Webster” they called it. And I found the meaning of fiction and myth; two simple meanings, not harmful at all.

I was amazed to find these two worlds so similar; many words the same, yet so hard to explain. For Both worlds were vague, in their meaning and purpose; but this one seemed better with love on their side.

I boarded the ship, so sorry to go and I wished each time to take a part of it with me. But I wasn't allowed, due to time and no space; I’d seen many worlds, and loved this one the most.

As I sat I heard talking of captain and crew; “Do you think he noticed, the error we made”? “No” said the captain “for he talked once to old and then to young”. My heart truly hurt as I understood one last word; I lied down and reflected the lie.