And there was nothing to be done about the Boy
He had retreated from majority
Become a void facsimile of what he'd been before
He was a stranger
And he had put aside his pencil and his comb
Abandoned all his toys and all his science fiction novels
He was living in a tomb
Without a telephone
And he never left the house
He was as quiet as a very quiet thing
He was as timid as a mouse
And though the lion roared,
He ignored,
Said he was bored,
The neighbors were floored
And therewas nothing to be done about his health
He had a vacant inexplicable suspicion
He was bleeding out his eyes and out his mouth
But there was nothing there
Come along Boy,
You won't win the fight
Walking alone will leave you a frightened, tired man
And there was nothing in his garden but his bones
And he had orgonized his funeral
Directed the processional
His friends had come and gone
He was his memory
And there were sagas in his mind of all the heros
And the life he'd left behind
But he was happier this way
Or not so challenged by his life from day to day
All his worries and his spirit laid away
And there was no one to convince his otherwise
They'd all abandoned him the day
That they could see that
He was bleeding out his mouth and out his eyes
And he had flown from them
Come along Boy,
You've come a long way
Giving up now will leave you an incompleted man

SUBMIT CORRECTIONS