The Blue Boy

The Blue Boy is a pitiful thing

Coiled up in a little tin ball

Shining, shining

It never burns but crushes deeper

The Blue Boy enjoys the bitterness

If there's a way out, hide it

Lock it up away, tightly

Next to his heart for much much later

The Blue Boy cries sometimes

Saves the tears in little glass bottles

And sends them out to sea

Look now; Can you find one?

The Blue Boy can't keep his mouth shut

Let's sew it closed and sleep

But he won't, for there is no distraction

From the Blue Boy's living nightmares

The Blue Boy swims alone in summer

Throwing off his burdening layers

And emerging naked from the river

Where has his sadness gone in his solidarity

The Blue Boy shames himself

By speaking of things too serious

In a crowd of happy people

Who get angry at what they don't understand

The Blue Boy disappeared one day

Shed his clothes, walked naked into the river

Went too far and never emerged

Nobody ever knew what was wrong with him

For nobody pitied the Blue Boy

As much as the Blue Boy did.