He was a lonely little lad,
His life was full of hardships, but he wasn’t mad.
His mind was a diamond,  brilliant  and pure,
He smiled like an  angel, his kindness was a cure.
Still the world beat him down,
His heavenly wings cemented to the ground.
He smiled at the folks as they went, but still he cried while he slept.
He was a saint, a gift, a child
Yet the burns on his heart were far beyond  mild.
The world was still cruel, and deemed him not useful,
But he just smiled because he knew people were beautiful.