Not much to say this time. This is Beast Boy. I thought I was supposed to be trying to write a Raven or Slade poem? Oh, well. In time, in time...
Disclaimer: Thirty-five minutes and counting! I don't own anything.
There was a time he was happy
A time he was free
A time he was blissful in his reality
When blades of grass and hot African skies
Meant as much to him as his family ties
There was a time he was lost
A time he felt empty
A time he felt his powers were a worthless cost
When red mud gave way to graves
And was replaced by Californian haze
There was a time he was needed
A time he felt loved
A time every order given was heeded
When dust from dispelled from his confidence
To make room for the teamwork he's needed since
Now he feels strong as an African ox
A feeling of belonging
That nothing can rock
He feels dirt under his nails from destroying his shame
He wouldn't tell you- but this means so much more than fame