Faraway Boy

He sits in the back of the room,

Small in stature he sits rigid in his desk,

With an emotionless expression,

On his thirteen year old face.

He prefers it back there, he can be less visible,

He avoids interaction and sometimes work,

He hopes to just get through each day,

And he hopes his inadequacies will go unnoticed.

The pain in his life is evident,

It lies just there, behind the blue of his eyes,

He keeps that pain at bay – barely,

But when near him, one can feel it.

He is my faraway boy,

His anguish buried deep within his being,

Secrets he can barely live with himself,

Much less share with anyone else.