And he falls to the ground again Lets out a cry of frustration and pain As sharp rocks graze against his face. Looks into a nearby puddle; formed by the falling rain There was a new bloody gash among the many scars A portrait of his adolescent wars. Just then, a mocking thunder roars And the venomous rain of insults continues to pour He wants to hide, but there is no shelter The words wear him away, make him think he does not matter He tries to run, but he can only stagger For there is a heavy weight, of responsibilities and expectations, on his shoulder. The stinging rain continues to tear him apart Like thorns being jammed into his heart He can feel his self-worth slowly burn As he continues to traverse the mountain he is on. It is dark, he can barely see The peak of the mountain clouded with uncertainty. Suddenly, he comes to a stop as he realizes The path he is following has now turned into a climb. He stands there and lets the rage build inside He wants to giv...