He sits and stares and looks up
At the crack lines on the ceiling
Nothing moves, not even him
He thinks of friends and wonders why
They seem to have such better lives
And he feels so left behind
He takes the eraser end of his trusty pencil
And he rubs it on his forehead
He erases them from his thoughts
Then stabs the pencil through his heart
And he feels much better now
He sits and stares and looks up...
Never wanting to feel like that again.