The Boy

A boy of sad and thoughtful face once spoke to me of life.

In his eyes was the sorrow of the world, but in his voice, its joy.

His words, though dark, were soothing to my spirit;

His laugh, though bitter, reminded me of an angel's.

His poet's hand had written many a dark and dreary verse,

Yet when he spoke of Love, you'd think he'd always been her friend.

His heart so filled with anger, so with hate about to burst

Also contained the purest of treasures - the kind only dreamt of.

A love ready to overflow, if only it were accepted,

Yet he thought no one wanted it, so kept it caref'lly hidden.

I saw, in his eyes, what so few had ever seen

A kindness he felt he could not show, for the world had made him mean.

I tried to draw it out but in the end, could not succeed

For he already too far gone to be brought about by me

He lost himself to his loneliness

And no one could see why

Yet I saw the truth in his eyes

But a night before he died

I'll always love that bitter angel,

Cursed to die a lonely death -

When someone chose to love him

That was when he ended it

Perhaps if I had shown him

If I'd only let him know

He would have seen it through himself

Through that almost hid window

For through this crack, I had truly seen

What no one ever saw

A man just as fragile as any

But without a way back home

For if he felt he had a chance

Surely he would not have done

What broke my heart that dreary night

What left me all alone.