THE LOST HERO

The long hair clouded others vision, not his
Every day the walk
Thought he "what of this day?"
But thinking wasn't for him
Reserved for teachers
Calculators
Computers

A low riding backpack, his scarlet letter
A pariah
Unfortunately the train passed him by
Left with only the 3:00 departure he tired to make do

The day he found 5 lost iPhones and returned them to the school front office
"Punk kid must have stolen them"
Trading water bottles with a neighbor so they would have more
They already drank most of theirs
Stealing they called it
That wasn't his water bottle
He never "stole" again

Cutting his hair helped his peers see better
The sun however blinded him
But dry and cracked eyes are far better than the slimy names stuck to his back

He grew
Taller
Faster
Older
He grew tired

Slithering to the souls of his feet, the grime weighted him down
Walking became a chore

Stopping him in front of two beams
The sticky words had won
Tread marks tattooed his back and face
His body looked tired
Rain droplets  gathered to carry his pitiful corpse
Washed him down the gutter
Gone

Peers much later question his absence
Only because suddenly their lunch tables were dirtier

"I heard he moved"
"I heard he transferred schools"
No one heard him
Never compensated
Admirated
Instead relocated

The Lost Hero sleeps soundly in the sewage below
Not even the sludge dares cover the subtle smile he died with
He always carried
Not even the sludge