He is young and grown,
His mother doesn't want him home.
He brings in the bacon, to pick up his fathers slack,
His father up and left and doesn't plan to come back.
He takes care of the family, his brother and two little sisters,
He doesn't expose them to their strung out mother.
He works on the streets to feed his siblings,
Brave young heart is what I would name him.
He is a senior in high school, but he's never really there,
The school calls home, but his mother doesn't even care.
He keeps a good attitude, so his siblings couldn't see,
The pain inside, he cries; he wishes he could be a regular teen.
Brave young heart is what I would call him.
He works hard for his family, just so they could have clothes and a meal to eat,
He never knows a day off of his feet.
He hides his disappointment, he hides his hate,
He tries to hide his pain away.
Brave young heart is what I would call him,
Brave enough to struggle
Brave enough to fight
Brave enough to take care of home
Brave enough to do what's right
I give him praise, I stand up and clap for this young man,
As long as I live, he will never know pain again.
*To all young men doing what's right, I give you a standing O!*
