United States

Wannabe poet who should probably stick to realistic fiction. Sum 41 trash.

Lost Boy

August 10, 2016

Pitch black hair, bruises all over. It was no wonder people feared him. His parents abused him; they called him the worst thing to ever happen to them. His name was Lost Boy, and he hummed the same song everywhere he went. He was a musical prodigy, but no one knew. The voice of angel. If only he had someone to write his songs about. If only he had someone to tell him they loved him. But instead, he wandered around the city at midnight. A guitar and bag slung behind his back, he was ready to say goodbye.


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  • August 10, 2016 - 9:13pm (Now Viewing)

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