Everyone in the family did their choices except for him,
he never did any of his homework.
It was as if he had no desire to do anything,
no one could seem to motivate him.
Trash collected in his room,
bills pilled up to the sky.
His friends seemed distant,
far away, it took too much to move he thought.
Yet there was something,
it was a picture in his head.
A different world,
something interesting, something he could relate to.
People enjoyed him in this world,
happy faces approached his greeting.
The love of his life existed,
and even she seemed more real.
Yet he knew it was all fake,
and there he sleeps, alone.
Dreaming,
the silent pen.
Author notes
Written March 21st, 2006
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I love your style. This was beautifully written.
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