Tales of a Foolish Little Boy

Hear me, for these are the unspoken words of a foolish little boy.

A foolish little bit, they say,

He knows not of the cruel world, they say,

And he knows not of the dangerous people within.

This is the tale of a boy who walked through a shattered heart valley at an early age,

A tale of a boy who grew up too quickly,

A tale of a boy who has long forgotten what happiness felt like.

But they say he's but a naive, foolish little boy.

They said he's lazy.

Now he thinks he is.

They said he's nothing but a parasite, which is crazy,

Now his reflection seems crazy.

Lost in his thoughts, for they are all hazy,

He couldn't come to terms with the pain; he feels slazy.

Hardworking and committed he is,

But now he believes he's lazy.

Respectful and understanding he is,

But they made him believe he's heartless.

His silence is taken as hypocrisy,

His introverted self is taken as a curse.

He nursed his inferiority complex in secret,

For he is surrounded by moving walls.

Now, he has never felt more alone.

Wide smiles carved on his face,

Yet his heart bleeds.

He is but a broken boy in a man's body.

They pay him no mind, since he's just a foolish little boy.

They see his words as that of a child,

For that's what he has been aged to.

A decade's worth of abuse has rendered him psychologically damaged.

His once vibrant spirit is now chained to the weight of their words.

He is scrupulous, but now wants to be entirely apathetic.

He feels inferior, and now he sees his words as the rantings of a foolish little boy.

But little do they know the boy has learned,

Learned that the world he once feared is cold and unkind.

He now carries scars upon his soul, marks of a journey through despair.

He stumbles but keeps moving, for the foolish boy has dreams.

Dreams they mock as impossible,

Dreams they see as the product of an idle mind,

But to him, they are the last remnants of hope,

A beacon in the storm of ridicule.

Every cruel word has built walls around him,

Yet deep within, the foolish little boy fights on.

He fights for the day his silence will roar louder than their noise,

The day his words will be seen not as childish ramblings

But as echoes of a resilient heart.

He bears the burden of self-doubt,

Haunted by the ghosts of their judgments.

But even in his darkest hour, he remembers:

A foolish boy can still rise,

A foolish boy can still conquer the shadows cast by others.

So he walks, slowly but surely,

Through the valley of broken hearts and shattered dreams.

His steps uncertain, yet driven by an unspoken resolve,

For he knows the tale of a foolish boy does not end here.

Though they laugh, though they scorn,

He holds onto the hope that one day,

His laughter will not be forced,

His reflection will not haunt him,

And his silence will no longer scream.

This is not just the tale of a foolish little boy,

But the beginning of a man who dared to dream,

Who dared to fight,

And who dared to rewrite the story they told about him,

Here’s an additional line to complete the poem and strengthen its emotional impact:

And in the silence of the night, he whispers to the stars, seeking the strength to carry on,Yet he holds on, though his grip weakens,

For within him lies a spark still flickering.

They see his fall, but not his countless attempts to rise.

Every tear shed tells a story of battles fought in shadows.

He speaks to the wind, hoping it carries his truth.

The stars above witness the silent cries he cannot utter.

The world may deem him foolish, but his heart knows otherwise.

Pain has been his teacher, and resilience his companion.

One day, the foolish little boy will no longer hide.

One day, his voice will echo louder than their doubts.