Poem Analysis: The Black Boy

The boy was caged within a painting. A painting drawn from a practiced yet shaking hand. It was a painting drawn from fear, a painting drawn in order to escape. The shading was perfect, if not too perfect. The lines were neat, if not too neat. The colors were too black. Too white. It was drawn from rulers and protractors, it was calculated and organized, it was planned and drafted. The boy lived within that type of word, unchanging, neat, and silent. He was content.

Then she arrived.

When she first arrived, she had wrecked everything. The lines curved and bent, the clouds gathered and darkened; It was as if she was the beginning of the end. It rained and poured and the winds howled and crashed. The thunder struck deep and melancholic notes

LYCHEE CUTENESS DAWWWWSIES

One by one, the boy had built an impregnable fortress. A fortress built brick by brick by his own calloused heart, with each brick carved by his own hatred. The boy continued to build those walls, and they grew higher and higher day by day. To outsiders, they may seem threatening and uninviting. And that was what the boy believed himself to be.

However, the girl saw otherwise. Instead of a cold and calm face, she saw a lonely and sad one. Instead of an aloof attitude, she saw a shy one. Instead of the dark and cold-hearted boy everyone else saw, she saw one that was desperately hoping for companionship. And she was more than willing to give that companionship.

With a gentle word, she shook that fortress. With a caring hand, she broke it down. With a warm smile, she vaporized all those bricks to dust.

And then she walked in, uninvited and uncaring, to find that lonely boy. She spotted him sitting amongst the rubble, shivering and scared. Wrapping a warm blanket around him, she whispered, it’s going to be alright.

And she was

Too deep. Deep enough for him to zone out and completely leave the world of bustling kids and the scents of his lunch. His arms made automatic motions and brought food to his mouth. His teeth moved in rhythmic patterns, chewing the food completely. However, his mind was somewhere else, far far away. And that was exactly why he moved to pick up that straw, and put it in his mouth. It was too late when he felt it at the back of his throat, and his gag reflexes kicked in. He coughed uncontrollably. Then he felt a gentle hand on his back, caressing with a soft strength that distracted him enough for his coughing to end. The owner of that hand questioned him with a worrying look. The boy shook his head and smiled with a soft blush, conveying that he was fine.

No words were exchanged. But it was enough.

The usual two annoyances were back. Their high-pitched voices buzzing with frustration tones and carrying into head-splitting volumes. The boy shut his eyes and leaned back against the railing, wishing the two were gone from this little bubble of peace and quiet.

YOU GUYS SHOULD, LIKE, DATE,