• A boy is twelve
    His life is cold
    Almost everyday
    He gets scold

    He doesn't have friends
    He doesn't share
    They all hate him
    He doesn't care

    I saw the boy under a tree
    He was reading a book
    I went to him
    And gave him a shook

    We talked a bit
    And we became friends
    Turns out
    We're friends till' the end

    I asked why everyone hates him
    He suddenly looks me in the eyes
    They were full of sadness
    I felt like I wanted to cry

    He told me straight up
    That his heart was made of wood
    I hugged him tight
    While we stood

    Instead of thinking it
    I say to him instead
    "If you have a wooden heart...
    why not paint it red?"