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Forgotten, Lost Boy
Forgotten by some,
But still known;
This boy inside,
Who feels so old.
His childhood life has passed him by;
Yet he won't shed a tear;
They can't see that side.
He has learned to hold the pain within;
As his parents continue to pretend—
He does not exist.
This lost little boy, deep inside,
Is read to trade his soul—
To Satan, himself.
No more pain, his only request;
To never, again,
Be hurt when pushed;
To have the strength to stand,
After someone cuts him in half.
Every night he doesn't pray;
Instead, he tries to take his life.
Lying in bed, no breath escapes;
As he tries to rid,
Of this tormenting heartache.
Early morning,
before his day begins,
He slits evenly—
Open—
Each wrist.
He feels his warm blood,
Trickling down;
As an attempt to let go of his fears—
Of being as his father was.
Memories subside, dragging him in,
As he flashes back,
To when he was young;
He watches his mother fall to the ground;
He covers his face,
Trying to ignore this picture show.
But as he peeks,
Through the cracks in his fingers;
He sees his mother; a needle in her arm,
A distant look of hatred on her face.
Any pain caused by his father,
Was turned to him.
Now, as he lies,
On this cold cement floor;
Covered in his own blood—
He cries out to anyone.
But he has cut too deep, to take it back.
He has finally escaped—
But it is not quite ready,
To say good bye.
