The Too Bright Boy
By FlatDaddy
I sing of one who might have been who still perhaps will be
If what he sees he thought he was is not what he shall see
In looking to the past to find
The parts to keep and leave behind
To mend a man and mold a mind in order to be free
The task will not be easy, this he knows and this he fears,
He shivers in the dead of night and cannot trust his tears
He peers into a glass to see
A skin stretched over memory
And not what is or meant to be, or will in coming years.
The third boy of his mother but his father’s first born son,
He showed them both quite early through the deeds that he had done,
His love of books, to read and learn,
To dream and wish and hope and yearn
They stoked his fire and made it burn much hotter than the sun.
In every thought and every deed, they drove him to the edge,
To seek and be the very best, to teeter on the ledge
To seek perfection, nothing less,
Not knowing in their callousness
They killed the very best he had — and left when he was less.
