How can it be right when never shown the light?
In a time in his so called prime told do as I say not as I do
He’s just the problem child, he’s just so wild
He begs for help but he says he is fine
He was told grow up, get over it, it will pass
How will he grow up when all he wants is to throw up
Then called discipline now called abuse
So tried, so tired
Beaten up, never to be beaten down
It will take its toll until he’s a troll
Not knowing what the world will take
He takes on the world
He’s just a kid yearning and still learning
Crying without tears smiling without happiness
Walking without stride and very little pride
Running without dreams jumping without joy
Restless like a strong wind in the trees trying to stand tall to only be blown off balance again…and again till the leaves fall eventually snapping a limb
Like a tide in the sea trying to reach the shore with every wave that seems to get closer to only be drawn back out even further
Where will he be when he can’t even see?
Where will he go when time runs out?
Who will he become when all is said and done?
Like the water from the sky always seen coming down but never seen going up
His life is unseen mess, like a puddle in the ground left to drain in the cold clay or frozen over in a cold winter’s night
Is he capable of seeing the light?
Brick by brick, bit by bit as the walls go up spiralling around so high; the sun only shines for a second a day
Then came a day when a hand was open with all fingers showing and the palm facing up
He was not sure what this was or how to embrace it, his instincts were shy his better judgment cried
Like a seedling in the dark looking for the light, it’s all so ever bright but can feel the warmth of the sun in a clear sky
In time he will grow with the light by his side and the warmth at his feet to know everything is not as it seemed
Growing leaf by leaf branch by branch, the bark peeling year by year revealing a new skin, that’s now so hard and brittle
Then time moved on as he stood so ever high and strong until he come tumbling down
Like a wood chopper taking his axe, lifting it high above his head to bring it down with the weight of the axe head and the strength of his arms with no palm to be seen, takes a slice from the tree with the first thud, then a chunk with the second, in a short time its swaying and the leaves are falling one by one, limbs are shaking making all sorts of loud wild cracking sounds, then came the oh mighty fall hitting the ground with an outmost raw the tremor can be felt more than just before