The poor man fears
That every day of his life
Will be going by
Too quickly for his mind.
So he holds on
To someone
With no choice
No name
Or a home to stay.
But he shys away
Ashamed
Anxious
And Afraid
Of what would happen
If they fought him
called him names
Or even staining his head.
So he inches away
With no choice but to cry
Himself to bed
Because the pain of fear
Wants to stay with him
Perhaps for all eternity
Unless he dispersed
Or ran away.
What choice does he make?
When he's so afraid
Of all the hate
And all the neglect
He had to endure.
Forge a bridge
With brittle fingers
And blistered hands
Unfit for labor
And unfit to love.
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Poems
Poetry"The universe kissed the stars, who birthed a galaxy of new beginnings." The only way to express beautiful and cynical thoughts is through the delightful invention of simple, and yet complex, poetry. My poems never end, have no defined theme and st...
