The Boy I Used To Be

I see the boy I used to be
Not in a dream but on the street
He walks alone without a beat
Or rhythm in his feat
He kicks a stone
A joint glued to his lips
He seems the model
Of troubled teenage in a way
Nothings lead to nothings, lead
To nothing honest he can say
He knows what others think he is
And he is terrified
He thinks enough to know that he was
Born lost
He doesn't toil his wits
Unwind a coil of ignorance
Or immerse in some discordance
He speaks with recycled bits of
Other people's words
He like to quote celebrities
Who like to speak in major keys
Who comfort him like family
And apathy
He knows their faces
Better than his own
He remain featureless
But will cast the first stone

- Nirmohi