For weeks or months,
They didn’t know,
Just quite what could be wrong.
If he’d been a girl, of course,
It wouldn’t take so long.
To come to a conclusion
About why he seemed to shrink,
But as a boy, this illness
Was the last thing that they’d think
To test for – no one asked him,
Why he seemed to fade away,
They just took bloods and poked him,
Could be viral? They would say.
And all the time he starved himself,
And dark thoughts ruled his mind.
This half-life he was living
Made him feel deaf and blind,
To the world that lived around him,
Folks that didn’t know his name.
His name was anorexia,
Or at least that was his game.
A daily game that tortured him
And played him like a toy,
They didn’t help,
They didn’t know
It could happen to a boy.
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