The Broken Boy

An armless chair holds his skinny frame; contorted to maximize comfort. Slouching thoroughly, head resting to the left, he stares off into the other world of his mind.

The Eye that sees
however it feeds
to bring a cherished world.

One leg straightened to his left, the shorts ending above his pale knee; the other bent as his foot rests on the edge of the seat. His black shoes only make his legs look whiter while the khaki succeeds in making them look dead.

The sorrowed smile
beckons the wile
of time lost trudging through work

Wearing his green apron to attempt a protection for his clothes, he moves his limp arms carefully to ensure his black, collared shirt is still tucked in. Sleeves rolled up and the collar pressed neatly, he looks sleepless from shoulders up. The angular jaw relaxed in the slightly oval frame; smile turned downward as he stares into space; time lost in his darkened eyes as his hair falls slightly around his face.

The ticking of time
closes his rhyme
when bearing compresses his chest.

Standing slowly, he shuffles back to his glee-filled work. As the corner is turned, the face relaxes back to its facade of content to be serving those who desire the need.

Springtime sunshine
Bright behind windows
Contrived essence of a beautiful day.