Who's the boy with the sickly eyes down the hall? He looks so familiar. But his name I can't recall. He's on my lips, I can feel him right there, hope he didn't catch me with my mouth open stare.
He looks like he needs a nap, to get some rest. His clothes all wrinkled, his posture's a mess.
But he has a thick line of laughter creased in his cheek. His smile has some tatters, and he's got coffee stains for teeth. His glasses are fogged up ***** with that day's grease. If he took a bit of care for himself he'd be looking, well, better than what I've seen.
Too bad he isn't better than he is right now.
some ideas ive had, some remarks ive heard, and a few insecurities i need to face