Dark Times Around

Last In Line

I have a natural talent
To see the best in everyone
From boy to man
Girl to women
And everyone in between
Except for one
Myself
I peer into my soul
Yet nothing of a bright stature is seen
I see a little boy pretending to be a man
A little boy scared of himself
A little boy who's always picked last
A little boy who never comes first second or third
But last
A little boy that even if he does win
Never sees a victory but all the parts he screwed up on
A little boy who's scared more of his own demons
Then the evil of the world
A little boy who would rather go wondering alone at night
Then be at a party
A little boy who's soul is darker then just before the dawn

And then people wonder why I hate the compliments that's are given to me
I'm not worthy of their kind words
I deserve the curses and swears that are spat
From the most vilest tongue

A little boy who's never enough
Who can't stand to be like this
What options are left for him
When he's last in line