He'd always been good
at hide and seek
finding the most obscure places to hide in.
At last, when the rest of us would
grow tired of looking
he'd emerge — glad that we could not find him.
As we grew older, and 
abandoned our childish, silly games
we gravitated towards more mature matters
— yet he remained the same. 
He would still find a place to escape
from where he was supposed to be
and as of yore, we'd search every floor
but he'd disappear indefinitely. 
As he grew older, his seeking games
stretched to include a perilous dust.
No more did he play hide and seek
in a way that would not exclude us. 
We drifted apart, though it broke our hearts
— mine especially —
it seemed as though his newfound game
was the symbol of our fading dreams.
Why did he hide? The answer resides
in the foundation of a stormy home
a home with no love or care to speak of
where his very existence grew cold.
To escape his melancholy disposition
He'd play hide and seek with his friends
until that day, that sorrowful day
when the friendship had to end. 
Our circle could not, would not accept
someone who was so very broken
they could not forgive this troubled boy
whose dark path was self-chosen.

However, I watched him, and kept him in mind
for I found it solely my mission
to never forget, and try to correct
my friend's unfortunate condition.
I tried with everything I had
to protect him from himself
— words will never fully express
all of the things I felt.
For as time passed, something happened
which I truly never expected
I fell in love with this broken boy
— a boy whose poison was his friend.
My friends told me, "All right now, don't you see?
This has gone on for long enough!
We think you're sweet for trying to help
but foolish for falling in love.
What can he possibly do for you, dear?
He's too high to hold your hand.
All he can do is make you cry
won't you please understand?"
But somehow, though inside I knew
that my friends were probably right
I couldn't help but to remember
our mutual friend's life. 
I remembered how he cared for a broken bird
when it had shattered it's wing
he bound it up, fed it, and when it healed
I was the first to see. 
I recalled how he sounded the very first time
a girl had told him ‘yes’
and when she left him, he was crushed
— yet he still helped me study for tests.
When I was hurting and feeling low

My friend would understand

And when I needed a pillar of strength

He'd find the will to lend a hand.

Once, I found him outside my door
after his parents had a truly horrible fight
I had no idea what he was doing there
he said, "I'm just admiring the night."
Years later, I realized what he was doing — 
he was playing hide and seek.
I was unaware that I was his hiding place
— the same thing he was to me.
But of course, I could never tell 
such a vast thing to my friends.
As nice as they are, and as smart as they are
it's something they'd never comprehend.
Months later, after a school musical
(In which I had starred)
I saw him standing alone in the foyer
and so I rushed into his arms.
"Friend," I said, peering closely
for there was something different about him — 
his eyes were clear as a crystal glass
yet I feared he'd found a new place to hide in.
"I've changed," said my friend, straightening
and for the first time I could really see
how tall he was, how strong he was!
— and how much he towered over me.
He told me that he no longer wanted to fly
and had no need for Fairyland dust.
He told me he'd found a love to hold onto —
which, needless to say, was much less dangerous.
Overjoyed, I looked into his eyes
as he told me he had no reason to hide.
He took my hand, and I was proud to stand
at my newly reformed friend's side. 
Over the months, he told me all about
the frightful things he'd seen
while he was flying high in Fairyland;
there were things that I couldn't believe:
He told me about broken walls and blackouts
— and mornings when he'd wake up
amazed to find shattered glass on the ground
and his hands covered with blood.
I was frightened sometimes by the stories he'd tell
of the episodes when he would fly
when he told me how dark inside he felt
I'd try my best not to cry.
Seeing my fear motivated him

(this is what he said).

He evaluated his life, and saw my face

whenever he wished to be dead.

We’ve grown closer than ever, he and I
As we learn the significance of life
Our friends have accepted him again
Now we’re making up for lost time.
And as we grow older, and 
abandon our childish, silly games
we gravitate towards more mature matters
— and thankfully, he does the same. 
It wasn't easy for him to change
but he hated who he had become.
Hiding wasn't an option anymore
— it was time for him to grow up.