I saw him standing there

All cool and suave.

For what seemed like an hour a glance we’d share.

And there he was.

He was an artist with hands big and strong.

A mother who ran away was the cause

Of his long and tragic song.

And there he was.

Tormented and tortured by his past.

His friends, his teachers, his ‘cuz.

But I saw his heart’s cast.

And there he was.

I could see he was hurt 

By everyone, all of us.

And his tears stained his shirt.

And there he was.

I saw him standing there.

All alone, quiet as dawn.

But I couldn't manage the strength to go to him. 

And he was gone.