Mourning Boy

Mourning Boy

Deeply planted are my veins, poisoned with a hardened cane,

these traces left within my blood, impure leaving scarred stains.

Like acid this placid substance leaves no remorse for it's subject.

A mirage of brief affection and relief from mental congestion.

Her illusions leaves no protection for my adolescence.

Shield-less from it's heat, being rocked in each wave,

My hope is still to live through the wreckage of each day.

Maybe some form of survival will show my life is priority.

Many mourn for this boy whose heart is becoming void.

Tears are born through the ducts of strangers eyes, when emptiness and hate cause his own to grow dry.

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