Little boy blue
haunted before his eyes
reached over the counter view.

Gentle green eyes grew into pitch black orbs.
Throwing punches by day.
Shedding silent tears at night.

He fled those trailer park days, lightning fast cars carried him away.
Ignoring haunted shadows wrapping around his tongue like a knife.

Look at him now, that smiling face.
Fist in the air with all that green he’s made.
With a nice house and some pretty cars.

He still cries from time to time. When a good dog dies.
When a sad movie hits just right.
When he remembers he can’t turn back time. 

I’m sure he’s happy,
I’m sure his soul feels peace.
Just look at his emerald sea.