Original Poems


5. It Was Too Late

 Crying in the corner, hiding his bruises
Sits a little boy, scared of his father.

Sitting in the corner, faking a smile
Cries a little boy, scared of his mother.

The little boy, hiding and faking
Is scared to death, of his own mind....

His thoughts run deep, never giving in
Until one night, he put it to an end.

Now his father, the one who brusied
Wishes he could take it back, but knows he can't.

Now his mother, the one who hurt
Wishes for her little boy back, but knows he won't.

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