Paint Us Correctly

The old soldier down the street told me:
When you hear voices in your head, listen.
Makes the dark bottle look so pleasing
What do we say to death? Not today!


Some peace of mind, some quiet time
If I get lost in this, tell friends
I’m fine.


Boys like me don’t cry beside roads to the market place;
Hidden sadness, hidden pain.
Don’t tell your mom
You may lose your mind.


We don’t smile to ourselves;
No talk in small silent clauses.
So, to paint boys like me
You’ll need a little peace of mind, a little patience, to remain sane.


We have a lot of dark moments,
Envy the sun that smiles so broadly
And the moon that makes night bright
But, don’t blame us.


We scramble under the shadow of trees
So our darkness doesn’t fade away.
If you’ll paint us correctly
You’ll need a lot of black paints.


I look in the mirror and I feel the shame;
With all the things caught in my mind
I can’t find the words to say
My heart is beating, but I’m so lost in time.


Boys like me are made of broken bottles
Sharp edges that may cut.
If you’ll need to paint us
You’ll need a lot of tranquility, so you don’t get hurt.


The first time I looked up, I saw nothing
The second time, I saw an angel bearing the weight of the sky
The torturous cloud
Is taking every breath I wish I held.


Don’t think bad of us, we aren’t to blame.
Carrying such deep thoughts–
Heavy minds.
No surprise we are down.


So, when you paint boys like me
Know you’ll need strength.
Hold us in your every breath
And in your beating heart


Boys like me are not indispensable.
We are ordinary extras in the book of comics
If roles were reversed, we could be extraordinary.
So, please, paint us correctly.

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