The pain,
It can't go on anymore
The pain,
It's never been like this before
The tears,
Their landings greater than his screams,
The tears,
Drowning distant dreams,
A little glum boy, against the world,
Wandering confused.
Old yet still young
A bomb of life, with a decayed fuse.
How can you still hear, he thinks,
What one soul hath to say
When the globe overflows
With others everyway?
A lonely monarch he migrates,
Aside from the flock
A late bloomer, a rare being
Is not always a precious rock.
Little Boy's fruit has still to become ripe,
Little Boy will do without soil.
Little Boy's fruit has still to become ripe,
Without water, Little Boy will toil.
He says he'll reach witness the ending
Of his eternal strain,
What Little Boy knows not of is,
He can never alone escape
The pain.

If nobody believes in Little Boy, how can he make a Great Man? Believe in others, not just yourself. Who knows; Somebody like Little Boy might make great use of your thoughts. Nobody beleived in Little Boy because he was different. He didn't have the fuel to live on. Nobody wants to resort to desperate options like Little Boy.