nate

when nate was five he counted to ten

colored his eyes with the ink from his pen

waited in the dark without a sound
to scare the girls when they came around

the colour of his walls would change
his parents were concerned...they found him strange
the doctors say that nate is sick
held him down as he would shout and kick

the walls are black just like his eyes
putting on his most excellent disguise
pretty stripes resting on his shirt
everything was perfect and nothing hurt

his hair was a mess of unconcerned excitement
straight from his bed and out the door he went
digging for worms and putting flowers in his hair
arms waving free hanging in the air

with teeth so green and tongue so dry
the blood would pour whenever he would cry
solving the questions of life in his head
instead of petting the cat he'd kiss it instead

when nate was five i saw him at the store
lying face down on the cold hard floor
waiting patiently without a sound
i hope he knows that he is profound