The Boy.

The boy hates his peers with an unattainable passion.
He lashes out, but he can't explain his actions.
He calls out, but no one is concerned.
He tries to pick up a book, but he just can't seem to learn.
He loves, he lusts.
He cuts, and he rots.
He tries to remember the thoughts that he forgot.
The thoughts that tear at the back of his skull.
The thoughts that he once wholeheartedly hulled.
Every night he tries to sleep, but it never seems to come.
He chases down his dreams, but all he catches is cheap rum.
He takes a step and he soon falls down.
But the crowd doesn't notice, the crowd is too loud.
The King is too busy polishing his crown.
The boy hates his peers with an unattainable passion.
He lashes out, but he can't explain his actions.
But now the boy isn't a boy.
It is no longer socially acceptable for him to play with those toys.