As his delicate flesh scraped against the scorching stones

He only thought about one thing

About the memories he had made

With ones he cherished

And the pain he endured

His crimson regret blanketed the grey gravel

Spilling onto his cotton clothing

Drenching him in his own consequences

Leaving him to writhe in the debris of his  decisions 

Suddenly, beacons of light shone into his eyes

Two grand, benevolent beings

Tending to his wounds after an eternity of waiting

Washing away the black and blue

He looked into their eyes

As the rain in his heart poured down uncontrollably

He didn’t know what he did to deserve

Friends like these

They silenced his cries

Reassured him in destructive times

Held him up when things went sideways

Being his safe space when times got hard

Even when he was taken advantage of by narcissistic Socs

These beacons of light shone to give him hope

They gave him resilience

They gave him strength

They protected him from the dangers of the streets

Saw him as more than “ The gang’s pet.”

And most importantly,  

they allowed his beacon to shimmer, 

brighter than it did before.