Lament of the Dying Soul
A poem by Chris the Cat-Pen-Bearer
There was only one love
He knew of: family love.
At school, his friends all had
Boyfriends or girlfriends.
He himself could never find a girl
Who would say to him, "I love you."
The girls laughed at him, disliked him;
The boys mocked him for this.
His family made sport of his efforts to fall in love.
He built a shell around himself and dreamed
Of fields of roses, with a maiden waiting
On one end for him to come.
But fantasy is not reality, he knew.
He'd been humiliated and hurt so much…
But what was he to do?
Who would help him crawl out of the icy shell
He'd built around himself…?