He sits alone, the little boy lost,
The only sounds he ever make
Are screams that come unyielding.
A tantrum, a fit, banging his head,
And nobody wants to be bothered,
With this little screaming menace.
But he hears every word you say,
And he cries alone on the inside,
Although your eyes never see his tears.
There is a child inside this lost little boy,
A child with a mind a heart and a soul,
That is dying to make his appearance.
And he hears you,
When you say he is hopeless.
And he sees you,
When you roll your eyes at his grunting.
And he wonders,
Why he has to be so different,
and why you hate him so much.
And he hurts,
More than you can ever imagine.
He's in there, a hidden treasure,
Trying to find his way through,
the maze that is his mind.
Just to find the strength to tell you,
He's in there. |