he is still only a child in the walk of life
unexposed to sorrow and crisis
inner turmoil frothing forth unhappiness
who is he in life? no one knows

no one sees the emptiness in his innocent eyes
the pain throbbing in his heart
none know his desires or dreams
or have ever heard his secret pleas

people surround him, love hime, care for him
but what does it matter
when there's nothing on the inside?