David Cathey | + Follow Poet |
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The Little Boy Inside the Man

The little boy that cries inside the man, dry your eyes, why has trouble come for me?
Be still my soul deep from within, where terror reigns supreme.
The night seems long and bitter cold, 
as day turns to night and my heart of stone.
Joy and laughter once close friends on the playgrounds of years gone by, 
where the little boy is now a man, and laughter exchanged for a cry.
How did my life turn down this path and my child like dreams vanish?
All hope has run it's course and left me all alone.
I've cried and cried some more, my tears are all dried up, I'm a boy within a man, and a man without a home.
Who will cry for the little boy, the little boy inside the man?
I've been left here on this street to once again die alone.
Each day that passes like a turned page in a fairy tale. 
This life that I live is real and has become a living jail.
O gentle breeze blow, restore my youth to me, awaken the little boy, the one with all his dreams.
A helping hand called goodness and mercy, angels all around, taking me to a place called heaven, at last homeward bound.
I fell asleep on this street, but never really alone, I have a friend in Jesus, and always had a home.

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