I've had a minimal attempt at improving the rhyme and scanning which I accept you might hate !
Old boy blue of many years
Who never shed his fear of tears,
Refused to share his life with friends,
And now's too late to make amends
For many years now, he's been blue,
And stopped believing dreams, it's true,
And can't look forward one more day
Or keep that touch of pain away
So far inside his mind he walks;
They're gone--no wife, no soothing talks,
And loving faces beyond that hill
Remain just memories when night is still.
In places ghosts and shadows lurk;
The little school, the country church,
He strains to find what he has lost,
But learns that he must count the cost.
The kite, with love, his mother bought;
Not good enough--twas all for naught.
And little toy trucks, he agrees,
Were broke so further hate could feed.
He broke and broke; thought he was smart,
Breaking every lover's heart,
And so he died all through inside,
While through it all he never cried.
Keep up the good work