The Sad Boy

It took him a life time to become the person that he was meant to be; 
happy, sad, uncertain and confident.
Who he was had came a long way, tip-toeing over fact, 
opinion and judgment of what it meant to be different from everyone else. 
The way of life was him seeing himself in everyone else and everyone else in him.
 A shared reflection.
The reality, however, was that the sibling bonds that God used to keep His people in common prayer-love unconditional, had long dissolved and seeped into drains
The bruises and scratches on his memory made it forget the vision of his happy self, 
it had learnt rather to never trust life or anything that held it.
The loyalty of his sadness had made him long for it more than the charms of happiness.
 He carried a damaged smile confronting the sunlight,
 which had been everyone's hope but his deception; having felt more danger and harm under its gaze.
The shadowy moon had clothed his heavily bleeding dignity with the night and had become a friend and comfort.
He has seen more ghosts in his life,
 begging to live again,afresh, but their deaths were fully registered by murderous tongues.
He has held hands with his happy self, a clear conscience; no longing, no anger, questions or vengeance,
 and hugged him tightly as they cried together over what time didn't afford them,
 a chance, a clear smile, a dry pillow, a good heart,
 an unintended laugh between life. 
He cried as he remembered his life, what it was to never be.