he wore a story across his face
head bowed down, so out of place
scars always run deeper than we see
all he wanted was to feel free
from the looks, questioning eyes
but he's always ready with new lies
stories to spin because the truth is too dark
the way it aches and twists in his heart
a busted vase, mama's new flowers
the nightmares come in waking hours
the abuse was a truth too brutal to share
and in the end would anyone care
the boy that no one wanted, the "mistake"
he knew someday she'd finally break
in the house that was never a home
she lit a fire and left him alone
but he knew mama was never stable
the loving part of her, it was never able
to kiss boo-boo's or hold his hand
it wasn't for him to understand
and now he sits here, day after day
looking for a new reason to pray
hoping that someone will love him as is
because this choice, it was never his
the scars on his face are hard to bear
and he just longs for someone to be there
to love him, this sweet broken boy