Ripped and Torn

I was checking the archives and found this little bugger. O.o it's not very well written at all but there's really nothing I'm going to do about that unless I get someone who wants me to. I want to see what the opinions are about this type of poem try. Thanks!
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There once was a child,
lying in his mothers womb,
and while he lay there, still and calm,
he heard stories,
of who he was,
and to become.
And when he was born,
he was a bright young boy,
he has a mop of curly hair,
and eyes that filled with joy,
at the sight of his mother,
who lay him in the bed,
and ran away,
and that was that.
So they sent him to an orphanage,
He couldn't stay there long,
the walls were ripped and torn,
and filled with echoing songs,
of lost children and abandonment,
songs he had memorized so well.
And he realized, eventually,
that his mother wouldn't come back,
so that was when his heart turned cold,
red and ripped with shards of black,
eventually this man died,
at the age of 82,
the promises that he had heard,
gone,
fading like the wind,
and gone...

Okay, so here I go!

There once was a child,-no comma
lying in his mothers womb,
and while he lay there, still and calm,
he heard stories,-no comma
of who he was,-no comma
and to become.
And when he was born,
he was a bright young boy,
he hashad a mop of curly hair,
and eyes that filled with joy,-no comma
at the sight of his mother,
who lay him in the bed,
and ran away,
and that was that.
So they sent him to an orphanage,period?
He couldn't stay there long,
the walls were ripped and torn,
and filled with echoing songs,
of lost children and abandonment,
songs he had memorized so well.
And he realized, eventually,
that his mother wouldn't come back,
so that was when his heart turned cold,
red and ripped with shards of black,
eventually this man died,
at the age of 82,
the promises that he had heard,
gone,
fading like the wind,
and gone...
__________

Rhyming: The rhyme scheme could be better - it doesn't have a definite scheme to it, it just sort of rhymes here and there, with no definite pattern. You should either rhyme all of it, or none at all.
Rhythm: This is a bit of a mystery to me, but it seems like you made it a freestyle poem, so I really can't say anything about this one. It's good, nonetheless.
Grammar: Okay, so the grammar you're having problems with - commas. Just because it's poetry doesn't mean you put a comma at the end of every line. I know, I know, I used to do that to, but my teacher told me that even though it's separated into different lines, it's just like any other sentence. Which is why, when I write poetry (which isn't all that often nowadays), I first write it without separating it, then I go back and separate it where I want it. For example:

Here's a poem (and yes, I did just come up with this on the spot):

For the Beauty of the Rose is forgotten
when I look upon my reflection.
For what I see can not be me
since it is a monster, a ghost without heart.

First I would write that poem like this:

For the Beauty of the Rose is forgotten when I look upon my reflection. For what I see can not be me since it is a monster, a ghost without heart.

Then I would go back and write it like this:

For the Beauty of the Rose is forgotten
when I look upon my reflection.
For what I see can not be me
since it is a monster, a ghost without heart.

You see? It makes it so much easier that way.
Spelling: There was only one spelling mistake that I saw, and it was probably more of a typo than a spelling mistake. You misspelled "had" as "has". That's about it.
Overall: Overall, this is a great poem, despite what you may think. It's a bit dark, but it has a lot of meaning, and I really like it. Great work!

Well, that's that, I suppose.

Hey Sunstar!

The main thing I want to comment on is that he hears all these stories of who he was and who he is to become... from whom? It seems strange that, knowing that he has heard all these stories, that he just gives up and stays at the orphanage until he is really old. It doesn't quite make sense! So either I would add what he hears and from whom he hears it from or just cut it out.

Well, I'm no poet, but this was promising. You could touch it up a bit, maybe refine it. Some ending words seemed out of place, but I could be wrong; fiction is more my forte. The verses were tightly clustered, so it was kind of hard to read. but, since you are awesome, I did my best. There you goes, now I shall do.... something.... yeah... um... good job!