boy

Boy

By Alexandria

 

WELL-MEANT (adjective): intended to be helpful but often harmful.

 

here’s to the last poem

I didn’t intend to be a well-meant

 

BOY

 

I loved a boy captured in shadows

Cold and thin; they demand to pull him in

Pressed into something small

Made to be nothing at all

They rip out his spine to build a fortress up high

While he coats his skin to paint it with his blood

All that bleed from the ghost of another’s hands

 

I love a boy with a mutilated face

His smile carved off and stitched over skin

With his finger coated red he paints another on

Mimicking to try and make happiness his lie

Everywhere he goes the people wave on

Forced to be a product of society

Tearing apart at the skin on his palms

Raw and red he never sings his psalms

Emotion welcomed like a soldier in Vietnam

 

I loved a boy who vomits emptiness and rage

How still and cold must his vessel become

Then shake with the force of such magnitude

Cracks run across his forehead and travel afar

They are splintered like veins; a crown for a Czar

Pompous and brash! do I shatter his servitude?

As he lives by the rules of tyranny and torment

Made into stone by brutality and any well-meant