Activism through writing. Inspiring. Continue the great work friend.
In walks a boy battered and bruised
From all the times his heart’s been tattered and used.
He takes a silent seat in the dark corner of a room
To shield himself from certain doom.
His eyes are cast down to overt their gaze;
A habit he’s picked up over the days.
His frame is delicate and small,
Yet the make up hides the scars from all the times he’s been pushed against the wall.
With my arm around him I ask, “Sad boy why do you cry?”
All I get back is a quiet “goodbye.”
I frown and ask, “Lonely boy, why do you bleed?”
And through a shaky voice he responds, “My heart is finally freed.”
As he stood to leave
He took my heart with him if you’d believe.
Later that night, I hear the news,
That lovely boy would never suffer another bruise.
At this point…
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