The Boy and the Asylum


His eyes appeared blue
with pain and despair
the exact shade of the sky, without one cloud.
The hue is not just a breathtaking blue
for afar it may appear that way;
but up close, many demons sit upon the clouds
and dictate his ever move.
they cackle at the flaws within the boy’s psyche
as he shivers and whimpers throughout the perpetual night
his tears so periodic,
they travel down his cheek
and to the river of hope
where they can soon remain free
but little do they know
that hope is scarce, but failure prevails
they run along the smooth river but are soon to hit some bumps
the tears blend within the water
and the boy can no longer cry
he merely sits with pain in his mind hoping he could just demise.
his eyes are no longer blue
but a smoky gray
the tint of blue still lies
he’s lost the rest within the dream
if only he hadn’t cried.

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