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The wretched ones
The broken
The generation you've damned
The unspoken

He sits and watches you struggle
And pleads for you to carry on
Longs to show you hope is not gone

The patron saint of both mangled and maimed
Forever there and without a name

He watches you fall and dries your tears
As much as he sees you
He sees his younger years

The boy he once was
Both mangled and maimed
The child the world deemed unfit to name

He weeps inside from the pain he's known
But his face lies cold
A fortress of stone

Walls he's built to keep you out
But there are keys
He'll never talk about

He picks you up
And takes you in
Bestows you a mentor
Grants you a friend

This patron saint of the hidden hope
Goes unseen
But helps you cope

Your cuts
Your bruises
Your struggles will end

The prayer of your mentor
Your fellow sufferer
And friend