This Little Boy

2003-03-25

Sitting all alone with no one at home, this boy wants to die but doesn't know why. It's been too long and he's so depressed. He doesn't belong, he's getting too stressed. He starts to shed tears, knowing he shouldn't, but with all these fears he knows he couldn't. Thinking of the past, of both the good and bad s**t. Knowing that at last, this could just be it. He starts to think ahead, of what he could've been, but just lays there in bed tearing at his skin. His head pounds with pain, not knowing what he's done. Nothing is what he'll gain, not even any fun. As he clutches his wrist, knowing he's a goner, the pain still persists and is taking him farther. Flashes of memories and thoughts collide, he's asking God "Please!" this pain he cannot hide. As he struggles with death, knowing he cannot prevail, he finds his last breath.. his body of no more avail.

Reviews

[Yun]

Very nice. My only objections are you rhyming "been" with "skin" and "goner" with "farther", though the former two do work when pronounced a certain way. I also agree with Michael London that breaking it up into a few short stanzas would be more effective. But aside from these quirks, the poem had a lot of charm.

[Michael London]

This was very good, I can relate to it, the only thing I didn't like was the format its in but still very very super duper. :]