The Boy

THE BOY

Comes home from school
To his mother who is crying
Cos fists have been flying

Alone in her weakness
She cant think past the pain

She once was a beauty
Too good for this man
His Father is yelling
throwing life in her face
She was a beauty
Now she's his disgrace

The house it is dirty
Soaked up in the walls are
Smells that linger
Of alcohol and tobacco
 violence is the norm
THE BOY

Comes home from school
away from the jibs
that his clothes are too small
And he smells all wrong

He comes home to the yelling
The crying
And the beating
He holds on before entering
He knows this is all wrong
THE BOY 

He is trembling he
Puts on the mask
The one that saves him
From falling apart

He would run
As fast as feet would take him
But he knows all roads
Only lead back to home
 THE BOY

Is hiding in corners
Alone in his heartache
Nobody listens
No one understands

Kneel down before me
You coward
You pauper
For you are the boy
That no one can see
 
The boy he is silent
Until he is able
He acts out all the ways
That he has been taught

Kicking and screaming at
A world with no meaning
A world that cant hear him
Why do they not understand

The people who laugh
And rub his face in the dirt
Are the ones who help make him
THE BOY
He becomes

Mummy and Daddy
They laugh in his misery
They learnt young
What he is learning right now

So when you see the child
Who you dont understand
Looking for attention
With his fist in your face

Think twice before judging 
You know cos
He just wants to be normal
He just wants to be free ........

Author's Note

inspired by inspire's - The violent boy

Reviews

[Melobldnfr]

I know this boy all too well. Well done.