Photo by Afta Putta Gunawan
I always tried to save the Lost Boy…
I could pick Him out in a crowd
His eyes look sad as if they wanted to be found
He is hurt deep inside but never makes a sound…
I always tried to save the Lost Boy…
he will never dance to someone else’s tune
he talks tough to his friends and howls at the moon
he takes care of others and will grow up too soon…
Oh the Lost Boys are blue, some are bound to lose
I pray to The One who can right all wrongs to sing His song
and fill the boy with sweet light and soul
because I know now I cannot save The Lost Boys…
Is this your confession of attraction to “Lost Boys” or confession of codependence, or both? I have fancied myself to be not susceptible to seductive ways of another, just to find myself confessing my vulnerability to such later. Often your writing make my wonder, “Hmm, what’s the backstory on that one?” Perhaps it’s just voyeuristic on my part. Dang, I feel another confession coming on.
Not really. I just remember meeting boys and young men throughout my life , dating some and loving one (at least I thought) and he had had quite a bit of deep loss in his life. I can just remember thinking I could help. Maybe ease his loss but the deepness of his grief was so unknown to my fairly “Ozzie and Harriet” home life. I could see he was actually tender hearted but felt he had to be strong in facing the death of his father at a young age. He did find Peace with the Lord but even his adult life continued to be one of hard losses of those He loved. I was not able to help but pray for him still. In a way he was courageous but also very very sad. No codependent need. I have always had empathy though.
I am glad my writing makes you wonder…that is a good thing.