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.