A lonely boy, writing in a cell,
Introverted silence, trapped in mental hell,
Surprised he isn't mad yet, his soul is very brave,
Sooner or later, probably sooner, he will cave.
The weight of the world on his shoulders is too heavy,
Though he tries to keep it calm, it's hard to keep it steady,
He teeters on the borderline of sane and going crazy,
To think of just how strong his bright mind is, is quite amazing.
But the answer's clear, he's sane cuz of the pen,
Though used to being solitary, poetry's his friend.
Often lost in thought, and always deep in writing.
Cutting through the hearts of readers, it is kind of frightening.
His art is beautiful, what this young kid does with synonyms,
Because he realizes poetry makes dreaming limitless.