His soft blue eyes seem almost out of place
In contrast to his rough composure
He takes a puff from far away
But never will he come any closer
He walks as if he’s on top of the world
His body shifts from left to right
On the outside he seems okay
But inside his mind takes flight
He’s quick to clench his fists and swing
His muscles are always tense and ready
He says he’s fine but if you stare too long
You’ll know he’s popped too many
If you ask if he’s all right he’s sure to say, honey, don’t worry
But those soft blue eyes, they always tell such a different story.
In contrast to his rough composure
He takes a puff from far away
But never will he come any closer
He walks as if he’s on top of the world
His body shifts from left to right
On the outside he seems okay
But inside his mind takes flight
He’s quick to clench his fists and swing
His muscles are always tense and ready
He says he’s fine but if you stare too long
You’ll know he’s popped too many
If you ask if he’s all right he’s sure to say, honey, don’t worry
But those soft blue eyes, they always tell such a different story.
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.
Jessalynn
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