Untitled

He spent a lot of time in his room. From his throne he saw his headphones sprawled out on the table much like his life. They drown out all the lies. The picture reminds him of how his mom told him that she would spend time with him, but there was another man to take his place every night. Dad lived in California. Cards in the mail on holidays were his only way of talking. He's not like other kids, homework was his relaxation. Reading was his escape. School was his physical activity. The cross on the wall was his praise. Mom stopped going to church after the divorce, but he still went every Sunday... to get answers and love. Magazines on the floor are a collage of a perfect life he wished he had. The window was his only outlet to the world. At least he could trust his shoes to protect his feet. He couldn't rely on much else. I never got to know the man this boy grew up to become. I knew the spirit that lived within him but not the child within. I loved him from head to toe. Inside and out. The child within him was never allowed to live. He wouldn't let it escape. Ever. Maybe that's what killed him. While listening to the eulogy I can feel him inside of me. The smile on my face and the happiness in my heart explained it all. He is now free. Free to be himself. Free to be the child he never got to be. Too bad I didn't' get to share this with him.

( this is one way i wrote it. I wanted to portray a boy sitting on his bed looking at things in his room and being reminded of things. This is what it turned into. I need help... please)