The lachrymose child, lay crushed with his cloud
Not speaking, not moving, creating no sound
Blue thoughts, blue sights, blue eyes who see nothing
All to a peaceful mind, never budging, never judging

The state of this young one, can't say it be healthy
His hidden feelings bottled, could say he's only stealthy
The progenitor walks in only to notice
The offspring has not the mind of compos mentus

She ponders and wonders the fate of her child
Must be the savagery people, making him riled
She walks in with the idea to mollify
Looking at him with deep remorse, noticing his skin, scarified

Her eyes are shut, unknown he be so doleful
So forlorn under his lack with being soulful
She lifts his head so only her he can see
To say "I will always be here for you, if need be"

The moist face now halted from rain
Can now reveal his eyes, all covered in pain
His bottle has burst and he has no other place
But now with his mom, which is the perfect case

"I have no other option, no other way
To keep myself bottled, here and today
I can't fight them back, I can't turn them in
There's no hope for me, I have no chance to win"

His mother only stares, showing some mercy
And spoke to him calmly, without much a hurry
"There's always hope and there's always a chance
Just stand with confidence, and wear a vigorous stance"

The clouds are now fading, with a rainbow upon his mouth
His face showing compassion with a face that no longer faced south
He holds firm with thoughts that seldom want an end
Finding new people he can now call his friends