​Hidden Meaning

Prepare for a powerful metaphor.

There’s a boy in his room,
Typing away at a poem.
He writes about love,
And how everyone hates him.

He loathes himself,
The way he looks and speaks,
The way he tries to be better,
But still thinks he’s a freak.

People are kind though,
And treat him as friends,
He thinks they’re faking,
And it’ll eventually end.

Or even if it’s sincere,
He knows sooner or later,
They’ll see he’s annoying,
Make him a spectator.

He contemplates death,
Daily on average.
He’d do it himself,
If his parents could manage.

Now I see that you’re going,
“Metaphor? What nonsense you’ve spat.”
And yeah, sorry.
Guess I forgot about that.