Invisible wounds no eyes can see,
Hidden by scars that reach so deep.
He carries a void, a gaping abyss,
A prisoner he is, waiting for release.

Everyday in a storm he wake,
A tortured soul trying to escape.
The gates are open, he’s free to fly,
But he’s too broken, it’s too late to try.

On the streets of oblivion he went astray,
A homeless child he’ll always be.
Alone and forgotten, alive yet dead,
Waiting for sunset as he mourn and weep.

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