No one believed the child when he told how deep he could dive.
They did not listen to him when he explained how dark it was down there.
"Your lungs are too small" was what they told him, when he said how he felt in his chest.
"You're too weak" was their answer when he told how heavy was the ocean.
They've shushed when he told how cold it was deep under the water.
They've covered their ears when he yelled how lonely it felt in the bottom.
They've turned their head when he tried to show what the monsters in the deep did to his arms, legs, wrists.
"Go on" they said "play with the others" when he was trembling in the corner.
They ripped off every color that he wore "this is not right" they said "that's too much color you've got there, give us some" they took each, one by one, until he had nothing left, only black.
"Don't dive then.." they said, when he started to walk in the ocean.
"Don't come near us" they shouted when he turned back to get off the water.
They did not see, when he was crying in silence.
They did not wait, when he needed time to catch his breath.
They did not ask, when he was dying to tell.
They did not look, when he reached for their hand.
They did not want, when he handed his scarred heart out.
There was no one left when he waved farewell.
They've all forgot...
...when he finally was gone.
