The little boys eyes stare back at me,
big and sad and cold as can be,
his eyes not bright and cheery like a childs,
but grey and dull not willing to smile,
looking into his colourless eyes,
you see a life of tears and lies,
no one to love him, no one to care,
no one to hold him, no one to be there,
this boy yearns to fly away,
free from his troubles,
to make his own way.
