he felt so cold within him rose the frost
not a person understood his iniquities
other children would poke and take the piss
it hardly felt that he belonged
in this world of torture with not much song
how could he become a man?
when always down; wearing a frown
whatever he had, eventually broke
he sometimes dreamt; yet in them choked
waking up crying, desperately sad
felt so unloved; forever would
chosen choices, as he should
always alone in the neighbourhood
poor little boy, nothing went right
he always had a smile to show
never letting others know; hurting in fight
it will remain so; keeping it wrapped tight.
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