He picked the dark blue ink pen.
It reminded him of himself.
How his heart was turning blue from the pain that he felt.
He wrote down the words he felt, and how sad those words were.
He wrote down how much he loved her.
He wrote down how he truly had no home.
He stated the fact that he has always been alone.
The arguing he listened to as a child brings sadness to him still.
He wrote down how much he wanted to run away, and swore someday he will.
He lay the blue pen down, hand tired from making words into beautiful sadness.
He lay back in his chair and thought about the world and it's madness.
How could one be so careless?
The world scares him, but he acts so fearless.
He looked in the mirror and judged what he had seen.
He failed to realize the beauty within.
How I wish he would see just what I see.
I can only imagine how happy he would be.
