The light will fade, darkness will engulf,
And when it's over you will not hear the cries,
Of a child who tried to hide from their words and eyes,
Burrowing himself under a pool of lies
Or the faint whisper of pain that rang in the corridors.
Or the tears that stained the broken walls,
Or the screams that echoed behind his closed door,
Or the blood that dripped on the bathroom floor.
Oh! They called, “A mistake, a misfit,
A boy with a girl's touch.”
“Weak and miserable, that's what you are”,
They mocked him when he fought under their clutch.
They cared not for the words,
That cut through his veins,
Deeper than the blade,
That left him with ‘unholy’ stains.
The demons they followed him around,
Like little flies around a rotting corpse.
Drugging him under insults that left him naked,
A dead soul was what they had created.
And there on the other side of the mirror,
Stood the faded reflection,
Of a broken, dying boy,
They called-” a Mistake in God’s Perfect Creation”.