Interpretative Silence

He was left behind it was not his fault. A late bus was his only route. Lonely, he stood in darkness that brought mist--a devils cold. A voice was heard it whispered old. Come young boy your breast are small. Scared he froze his hands went raw. Two years past and all seems well. From the brother eyes that could never tell. He felt a disturbance but accepted it was natural. Brother and boy lived life strongly and pastoral. The boy was quiet, a change with age? Was he thinking? He seemed locked in a cage. He told nobody for two whole years. Boys words were the worst his brother would hear. A knife was drawn, come here stranger said. The boy obedient as his courage fled. Penetrated with force his body died. Stranger left the young boy to cry. Everything made sense after tears through the message. All the times he was mistreated, with no knowledge of his wreckage. The brother of old knew not of the boy’s power. Living his life with shackles every moment and passing hour. His mind was confused by the tragedy so young. His soul was crippled, his body was flung. The lessons—think twice before treating a soul. He or she could’ve burned or was left in the cold. The boy--a reminder--of the memories of ours. The weight that people carry every eclipse, every shower The brother thought his mind was in pain. In fact it was his soul that hurt and was feeling blamed. Realizing that many walking don’t ever know, The burden people carry after evil ripped open their soul. If you don’t understand why some act a certain way, Don’t mistreat them poorly. They could have been raped.