Once upon a time, there was a boy misunderstood. He loved adventure, but was looked down upon as no good. At nights, he’d sit under a tree wondering why, never shedding a tear in front of their eye. He met a girl so sweet who thought he could change. Only to find out it was all a dream. The girl ran away taking nothing; not even his heart.
Days passed. The sun would rise and it would pass. Everyone was becoming who they were meant to be. Some graduated with honors; some married; some becoming mothers and fathers. All blessed with futures, he sat there, loneliness stabbing at his already shattered heart. Wondering if it be better to depart. He looks to the cloudless blue sky saying, “God, what is there for me here? Why all the misery and fear?” He sat still under the same old tree and began to write. He wrote and wrote ’til he no longer could write. Under the tree he weeped, ’til he could no longer weep. Then closed his eyes with a smile knowing it was time.
The skies began to darken and cloud. As rain fell onto the tree. Thunder began to sound. The stems, the leaves that saved him from the bright morning sun each year began to tumble droplets of rain one by one on his final resting frontier.