The Boy Who Cried Wolf
The Boy Who Cried Wolf
The world is what he carries around,
a substantial weight weighing him down
Never looking up but continuously down, his head is always to the ground
Often comes across his mind, “I think it’s bout my time”
Time to leave this world, and leave this world behind
Everyone hates me, I don’t feel loved at all
No one’s with me, alongside me, roundabout me, to grasp me when I fall
The dirtiest of dirt is how I feel
I never in my life had a home cooked meal
I’m 17 years old, under no circumstances should I feel like this
Never had a first time, So I imagine my first kiss
My name is David Carwell, a name that I made up
Been on the streets since I was 10 surviving only by luck
Where’s my mom, where’s my dad
Where’s the family I never had
Never had an associate, never had a friend
I’m done, I’m tiered, I wash my hands, today for me it is the end
4-15-09
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