Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
AD Snail Dec 2017
They're used to a little boy,
That gave out hugs for free,
And gentle smiles filled with no pity.

He used to tell people they meant the world.
Saw good in everything, he did.

Tried his best to never speak out of turn,
And kept dark thoughts at bay for all,
Never allow you to feel down for long.

His gentle eyes held such kindness,
That was meant for angels,
But was given to even the most cruel creatures.

He wished to be dependable even when he was bruised.

He was such a good little boy,
And it was a shame he never knew.

That little boy, oh how I miss him so.
His innocents now all washed away,
Drowned away by his own demons.

He is lost away out at sea,
And drowned long ago,
Now that is all left is a impassive demon,
That shows no compassion.

Oh how I miss that little boy,
I would love to trade places with him any day,
But I made a mistake of letting his hand slip from mine.
Tears tried to escape from my eyes, as I wrote this.

— The End —