A Young Boy

A young boy sits, with an endless yawn,

In a group of people, where he doesn't belong.

No laughter, no love, just a hollow sound,

Of a schoolboy who's bored and yearns for something profound.

He looks around, at the sea of faces,

But not one of them, in his mind, finds a place.

For in this group, where no one cares,

Rebelling and oppression, are sins that aren't rare.

He feels alone, in a sea of noise,

With a mind full of questions, and no one to voice.

For in this place, where oppression reigns,

Freedom and joy, are the unheard strains.

The boy grows sad, with a heavy heart,

Feeling lost, in this world that's torn apart.

He longs for a voice, to rise above the crowd,

And to lead this group, to a brighter road.

But in this place, where oppression takes hold,

The boy is lost, and his spirit grows old.

His sadness grows, with each passing day,

In this group, where no one cares to listen and play.

The boy despairs, with a bitter heart,

For in this place, he will never have a part.

He's just a schoolboy, lost in the crowd,

With a dream of freedom, and a voice that's never loud.