Bright Boy

Rain trickled past sparse hairs;

racing by sprinkled freckles on pale skin. Soggy Fridays

drew in depressing thought,

his mind saturated in melancholy black,

soaking every idea with the saddened weight.

“ You aren’t good enough.”

“ Why are you like this?”

“Do you really think they like you?”

Suddenly, the dark fog clears;

cracks, shards fall,

a boy

with sunshine woven in his smile

is spotted beaming

through the fragments.

“It’ll be okay.” the boy wrapped

a delicate hand on the others shoulder.

The blinding smile,

dampened

allowing vision to trail to deep chestnut eyes, and in his eyes the other could

see the dark haze clouding

the spring-like visage,

“We are going to be okay.”

The bright boy finished.