Riley Linehan ’29

by Riley Linehan ’29 on October 30, 2025

The little boy walks where the light refuses to go, 
Where he finds his friends waiting for him. 
He hears whispers that slip between walls, 
Words meant for no one else. 
He speaks back softly, 
As if they were mirrors of a life he has yet to live. 

He once laughed when the shadows danced around his ankles, 
Thinking they were playing along. 
But now he listens to their secrets and follows their demands, 
Because someone must. 
The other children don’t play with him; 
They don’t understand. 
They only see a boy in the dark.

At night, he whispers to the shadows, 
And they whisper back.
Perhaps he is not the boy who speaks to shadows, 
But the boy who sees what no one else can.

The shadows do not answer today. 
He wonders if they ever will, 
Or if they ever have. 
Or has he been speaking to his own lost innocence all along?