He made friends well but always felt alone..he was never popular and felt almost invisible to the naked eye.
He dreaded going home from school every day to a drunken mother who was the victim of her own energies..through the violence he'd learned to hate her,fear her..but love her.
I witnessed this lost little boy with a pale complexion rise from his own darkness and educate his own creativity.
He would write his own stories after his homework and relish in the reward of what his own mind was capable of.
I seen him mould his skinny body into one that was more useful and could be used to defend his self and loved ones.
I felt he was finding his way, his spirituality in a deeper void of the one he felt trapped in.
I stood back along the way as he found his own courage, and surrounded by good people learned how to control his darkness and turn the energy into positiveness as easy as he was built for negativeness.
Others did not see..'him' they failed to detect the powerful force that this simple not so flashy boy possessed.
As he grew stronger he lost a lot of his fears, his torture.
I could feel his pain of losing a parent but gaining a whole universe surrounding the other.
He has become a man now and although he still has demons, he knows that it's a part of being human and being alive.
Now he lives to serve others, to be the best for himself and the world.
He knows himself better than anything, yet he is still a mystery to himself.
I feel at ease knowing he has found a steady place.
That lost little boy still visits me from time to time...