The boy in the hoodie.
Day after day, this problematic teen I see, His regular scent of smoke and liquor as he goes by, I turn my head in disgust as everyone does, His cold, emotionless eyes tells a story that can't be solved, The nostalgic past tormenting him Torn hoodies trying to hide the bruises all over, Hot and suffocating he wants to be free, Around the corner in the back, The same hoodie that always repels, always alone with the burnt smell of cigar, And in the state of a drunk Internally screaming but no one sees, Help me! Help me! is what I see I want to save this boy but my body cowers in fear, The way he dresses and speaks frightens me His uncontrollable temper drives people away I watched him suffer and watched him cry But all I could do was sit by I overlooked his pain all for my own gain I despised him because I was scared of him But when the day is done he goes home as silent as the grave Opens the door almost meeting his demise, Ah, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree,