Stare into those large, dark eyes,
Overwhelmed with pain
And beneath this little boy’s guise
His nightmares remain.

Sitting at the lone desk, broken and ancient,
He colors a vibrant picture gray
Pausing for a moment, as if spent,
He sobs and wails while the others play.

Children laughing and running,
Their happiness spread to me.
But the poor boy was shunning
All their love, care, and glee.

But in those eyes I see hope in disarray,
  Not a child.
Piecing it together, he looked away
  When I smiled.