Gone

The boy turned away and breathed a sigh
He never got a chance to say goodbye
To the sister he loved, the friends he had made
He hadn't told them he was leaving today

He saw his best friend, perched in a tree
Staring up at the moon, in his own reverie
The wind blew cold, it chilled his face
He turned away without a trace

He still walked as the sun came up
His steps were slow, his shoulders sunk
The ones he left would be up by now
How they'd take it, he didn't know how

Despite the half of him that he would lack
He only looked forward, never looked back
The boy knew he had left for good
So why wasn't he convinced he could?