Kev's Bong

We were mere acquaintances
As opposed to friends
Our circles mixed, when chasing our THC fix
Many years before his tragic end

We were teenage twigs that floated down 
The same silty streams
Meandering lazily, while the air was hazy
Long before laughter turned to screams

Kev was on a youth training scheme 
As he was four years older
Spending his grey North East days
Learning to weld and solder 

A metal monstrosity he made
With beads of weld bearing his name
Wonky joints and leaking seams
Crudely cut with oxy flames

The weight of 10kg dumbbell
It was the bluntest of blunt instruments
It was anything but subtle
And hardly inconspicuous

Filling his tiny box bedroom 
Full of plastic resin smoke
Blasting tinny MC rave anthems
How we laughed and toked

I wish I could have helped him
With a rope around his neck
If only someone could have intervened 
Before he tipped the step

But one thing I'll never forget 
Now that he's dead and gone
Is Kev's crude clunky wonky 
Heavy metal bong