I knew a boy like that once, he
Used to call me friend,
He never stopped talking, and though I
Could never respond, I was the only one
Who was never mean.

He drew faces everywhere —
With fingers
On muddy windshields,
With chalk
On brick walls,
With Clouds and Rainbows
On azure skies,
And with words
On my circular mug.

Always smiles, he said
The world could use
A lot more of those.

I always knew he was too pure
For your world,
I knew any day soon, you’d hide him away from me.
That you would crush
His beautiful soul,
Wipe off that stupid
Smile from his face,
And either put him
In a box and shove it underground,
Or take no heed
Of what he’s got,
And let him become
Another brick in your wall.

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