You look at me with foul hatred,
And wonder why I sit by myself,
Your clicks and friends throw things at me,
But for what reason?

Every day is the same,
Dwindling on un-relentlessly,
Hate and depression take over,
For it’s a lonely mans disease.

Emotions shoved to the bottom of my well,
Where my shadow dare not go,
All the worlds’ anger is buried there,
But one day it shall arise again.

There will be no stopping it,
It will consume me whole,
Then one day I shall awaken to a bright light,
With a white, crisscrossed sleeved jacket,

What happened to that quiet boy?
All of me could have been saved,
The hatred and anger forgotten,
If someone would have just said, “Hey”.

 

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