My Story: A
Troubled Soul
Nobody seems to understand what he’s been
Not even a tag to label him boy or teen
For they gave him grin for his green,
And what’s left is confusion for him to lean.
A friction of his roughness causes the world to shatter
As his “roots” start to explode and spill their anger
Like no kingly or deity can do to hamper
The upsurge of their fury and temper.
In his misery, he does what he knows best
Be passive not to stew the mess
Tried not to wince that wanes firmness
Afraid to show his gallant, so less.
But containing himself was never his line
That double-edge tongue starts to show sign
He fought back knowing it’s not fine-
Committing a sin eclipsing known crimes.
The spark that starts the blazing fire
Has come to end its flame, undesired;
Extinguish by tears streaming to inspire
Calmed his troubled soul to retire.
-J.K.P.
|
?freedom? |
