there is a boy
who feels lonely and desolated
even when the ball stopped circling

tries to fit into a world
where he feels like he does not belong
like a crow swimming in a sea

at eleven,
he lost his self esteem down in the river
under the bridge of the last time
he held hands with his old old man

aged twelve,
he met a girl with cream
the moment he laid his quiet eyes on her,
he knew she was what he ever desired
he tried capturing her kite, flying above the sky
but her kite was already caught
by someone she thought deserved it

he went home and cried himself to sleep
just like any other boy would
after he fell off his bicycle and saw blood
flowing from his skin
and he saw it too;
from his kite

trees are dying
flowers cease blooming
birds stop chirping
everything he touch
turn cold and dead like his soul
yet at the middle of the day
he stretch his lips
and tell everybody that pretended to care
that he is dandy

while they live their life
he runs his life like a job
while they genuine feel something
he fake his
while they live
he dies

like a trained bird, he is
does what he should do
does what to survived
in this biased and dreadful game
we all called
life