hug.

Once young and naive, much more now he knows
And oh how he sees the way the world goes.
They speak of true love, but tis only a word
Money they crave and obey when it's heard.
But Virtue once lost calls to him again
And he'll die alone, than to lose this dear friend
He takes off his mask, revealing the fragile
His flesh 'mongst cold stones, yet still very agile
Soft skin bearing bruises, so easily bleeds
Out red drops of love which also he needs
Two arms open wide, yet passers-by smug
Silently calling, for someone to hug.