The Little Boy With 200 Tongues

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There is a room with a little boy.
"Come down to eat!
Come down with us!"
says the mother of the little boy.

He is upstairs dreaming out of this world
that is so scary and cruel and all. 
"He is not so ugly..."  
says his mom.

"Perhaps his 200 tongues,
so hideous and all,
won't show in public
if you tie them all."
says the family to the little boy's mom.

He looks in the mirror,
the big one with the crack and the hole,
and thinks it would be better to chop them off.

He lives in a castle like those kids draw.
With enough candy to rot a normal boy.

"Let's go outside!
"Let's play baseball!"
yell his cousins Angel Bad and Angel Worse.

He comes to play...
that little boy.
He grips the bat.
He hits the ball.
It's a homerun!
He's not applauded.
Instead his cousins and naughty boys
throw poisonous bugs on his swollen tongues.

He cries a little to his blind mom
who sees no reason for grief at all.
she says:

"It's fine...
the tongues will grow
to look as beautiful as...
Here is a candybar!
Chew on!"

The little boy, always sad and all alone,
swallows his pride and all the wrongs;
and all the paper-mache demons of his child world. 

He eats the blue ones and devours the orange.
But the black ones with spikes make him fart a long range.

And so, whenever hurt or feeling odd,
this little boy I tell you of,
would climb the stairs that feel so cold
and lock himself in his room of blue walls and candy floors.

He eats candy like a slimy bug,
creeping, and licking, and munching up.
With his 200 starving tongues he feels DaVinci.
Somebody help him!
He'll rotten up!