I use to know a little boy
Who would get up every morning
Look in his bathroom mirror
And find a reason to smile.
Like many other kids
He was bullied,
He was bruised and laughed upon.
But despite all that
He still found a reason to get up each morning
Look in the mirror
And find a reason to smile
But like most good things,
There came an end.
For at the age of eight
This little boy lost a part of his heart.
His sister had died.
The one who took care of him
When no one else did.
The one who was there for him
When no one else could
The one who was now gone
That on one else could replace.
After that his life sundered into an abbess,
An agonizing chain of death and regrets
That this little boy received
That would put the most strong and masculine of men
Into a ball of tears in the corner.
Death of a family member
Of someone the little boy held dear
Either died, or came to a point
Where they might as well be dead.
Each time this happened
The smile in the mirror
That the little boy use to be able to form
Turned into tears, and a blank face
Until the smile came nevermore.
He had nothing left.
His heart that was once filled with joy,
Now just an empty ***** in his cheats…
One day, as the kid became older and bolder
He wrote a letter to his parents
With kind, sweet words to let them know
That he would hurt no more.
He took his parents out that day
For one last day of fun,
One last day of smiles
Upon his parents faces,
One last day to say’
“I Love you, goodbye.”
When the night came out
So did his letter
Upon his bed
As he grabbed his shotgun
And snuck out the window.
He sat out in that pasture
For what seemed like an eternity
Until the tears stopped
As he slowly loaded the barrel
Pointed it in his mouth.
Took a deep breath.
And pulled the trigger.
His body fell to the ground.
Tears coming out,
But he wasn’t crying.
No sobs came from his throat.
No movement of his body,
Other than the tears coming out of his eyes.
After what seemed like hours,
He picked himself up off the grassy ground,
Grabbed his gun that jammed up,
Snuck back into his window,
Hid the letter and gun again,
And went back to bed.
The next morning he is greeted by his parents
Who simply say, “Morning.”
Give the kid a smile and a hug
And continue with their morning routine.
After trying not to cry,
But failing after the boy walked away,
Ran to his bathroom
And looked in the mirror.
Though there were tears in his eyes
And sobs in his throat
He looked into the mirror
And found a reason to smile once again.
Aug 12, 2015
Aug 12, 2015 at 4:14 PM UTC
I use to know a little boy
Who would get up every morning
Look in his bathroom mirror
And find a reason to smile.
Like many other kids
He was bullied,
He was bruised and laughed upon.
But despite all that
He still found a reason to get up each morning
Look in the mirror
And find a reason to smile
But like most good things,
There came an end.
For at the age of eight
This little boy lost a part of his heart.
His sister had died.
The one who took care of him
When no one else did.
The one who was there for him
When no one else could
The one who was now gone
That on one else could replace.
After that his life sundered into an abbess,
An agonizing chain of death and regrets
That this little boy received
That would put the most strong and masculine of men
Into a ball of tears in the corner.
Death of a family member
Of someone the little boy held dear
Either died, or came to a point
Where they might as well be dead.
Each time this happened
The smile in the mirror
That the little boy use to be able to form
Turned into tears, and a blank face
Until the smile came nevermore.
He had nothing left.
His heart that was once filled with joy,
Now just an empty ***** in his cheats…
One day, as the kid became older and bolder
He wrote a letter to his parents
With kind, sweet words to let them know
That he would hurt no more.
He took his parents out that day
For one last day of fun,
One last day of smiles
Upon his parents faces,
One last day to say’
“I Love you, goodbye.”
When the night came out
So did his letter
Upon his bed
As he grabbed his shotgun
And snuck out the window.
He sat out in that pasture
For what seemed like an eternity
Until the tears stopped
As he slowly loaded the barrel
Pointed it in his mouth.
Took a deep breath.
And pulled the trigger.
His body fell to the ground.
Tears coming out,
But he wasn’t crying.
No sobs came from his throat.
No movement of his body,
Other than the tears coming out of his eyes.
After what seemed like hours,
He picked himself up off the grassy ground,
Grabbed his gun that jammed up,
Snuck back into his window,
Hid the letter and gun again,
And went back to bed.
The next morning he is greeted by his parents
Who simply say, “Morning.”
Give the kid a smile and a hug
And continue with their morning routine.
After trying not to cry,
But failing after the boy walked away,
Ran to his bathroom
And looked in the mirror.
Though there were tears in his eyes
And sobs in his throat
He looked into the mirror
And found a reason to smile once again.
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