What He Took With Him

New habits with an attitude undesired,
A new best friend, just as “bright” as he,
Those who were still in love with that boy, the one he used to be,
A bag of pencil shavings, with a funny smell,
New connections, not to the Comic Books, but to a “good time”
A few old t-shirts, looking like they don’t belong whenever worn,
His hair, still shaggy and dark, a sad reminder,
His guitar, missing a string and still battered up as ever,
Although it found a new case of protection,
His old friends’ friendships, twisting it and turning and tearing,
And his ex-girlfriend’s stability, along with her mind.

What he left behind:
His Dungeon’s and Dragon’s books,
His love of swords, fight combat and things alike,
Old habits, with an attitude desired,
The rest of his t-shirts, the ones we wished he’d wear,
His father’s loneliness, his mother’s disappointment,
A girl’s confusion, her illusion of relief,
And her left over mind, crumbling on the inside,
And the little boy we all used to know,
The one who created happiness that only got torn to shreds.