He was a boy
All he was; a little boy.
Innocent and unexposed to the world;
Where one decision, one action
would be able to screw oneself over;
Where one decision, one action
screwed him over;
Altered his vision of a perfect life:
The life he thought he had set for himself;
The life he thought he'd live.
The life he thought he'd set for himself
was in ruins;
Where his mother betrayed him,
his father abandoned him,
And all those around him thought he was
of no use fighting for.
And soon he fell for the temptations in life;
Fights and "love" and believing more freely
that he was worthless;
That he was no use fighting for. He fell.
And so new places arose
with new faces and new aromas;
A new start to life, where nobody knew him.
But what was carried along was too heavy
and all hopes of new life cast away
as it was thought his life of old was the only one worth living.
Even into the days, weeks, months
that he sparked new life in another;
Gave them hope and a will to live.
And when approached he shied away;
Afraid he'd ruin yet another's image of him.
But this image could never be tainted;
An image of an angel,
a saint,
all good in this world
wrapped together into one beautiful person.
Time and time again
it was told how he'd salvaged someone;
How much they appreciated the efforts
and pure light that he'd brought to them.
But it never seemed good enough.
And so he lies in wreck at night;
'A screwed up mess,' so he says.
Trying to understand what he has,
trying to understand what he's done,
and making himself believe
there is nothing... no one to be worthy for.
But at the same time
The other lies
Trying to understand what he has,
trying to understand what to do
and making himself believe
there is more to be done to make their savior see how much they really are worth.
