The small boy ran home from school in the rain.

He wiped away the tears to hide the pain.

His sleeves were long to cover up the scars

Like a criminal stuck behind locked bars.

The happy emotion he played was fake.

His false smile slowly began to break.

He sat in his room alone in the dark

And grabbed a razor to make his last mark.

Tears ran down his face like blood down his arms.

He felt his razor was a good luck charm.

One of these days he will stop being teased

Because his soul will finally be seized.