Published March 23, 2007
Poor, lost, little, boy;
Child without his blanket,
Child without a single toy.
Hiding from the hostile world,
Hidden within his shell,
Telling himself,
As life around him swirled,
"Surely this is hell.
"My true-self can't live outside me,
Can't go without a mask;
My hidden-self betrays me
As a shadow of the past.
"I'm forced to live inside a sphere
Where I am forced to hide;
I'm not as cold as I appear,
Human, buried deep inside."
Poor, lost, little, boy,
Crying softly from afar;
When is it you'll show me
Who you really are?
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3/25/07--Changed
"Telling himself as the cosmos swirled," to
"Telling himself,
As life around him swirled,"
Feel free to comment which is better.
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139,447 Literary Works • 672,564 Reviews
This might be a strange way to begin a review, but this poem just seemed so self-contained. What I mean by this is that no additional content is needed to get a sense of it. My only critique is from the first stanza; the line "Telling himself as the cosmos swirled" seemed a little awkward as it has more syllables than the rest of the poem. Other than that.... *big thumbs up!*
Wow. I like it. I can't explain why though. Maybe it's because I can kind of realate to the Poor, lost, little boy. Life sure is confusing.