There is a lonely child in the heart of a cold vindictive world.
It is a lonely child who has nothing or anyone to call his own.
He sits alone in a pitch-black chamber.
Surrounded by nightmares overflowing by abhorrence that is tainted.
All around him there is nothing but darkness.
All inside him there is nothing but sadness.
All he looks for is a way out of his madness.
Nevertheless, there is nothing for this lonely childs potential happiness.
The lonely child runs and runs from what is sinister and in the dark,
He tries to find someone or something that he would be able to love.
He fails to find anything, so the world he starts to abhor.
He looks in the mirror and the reflection shows a lonely child in a cold cruel world which he starts to adore.
He looks down at himself and sees nothing but misery,
For the world sees him the same way, unimportant and invisible.
A lonely child with rampaging emotions acquires a paper and pencil,
A poem he writes, just like this on