I’m out here is there anything real,
Anger rises and I hate to feel…

…All those things that call inside,
Wounds deep that hurt my pride.

Liars and circumstance of the task,
Meanwhile, you get to choose to bask…

…In all the things I willingly gave,
Guess it is my lot always a drone, slave.

When all I want to do is rest in arms,
That truly loves me, never to harm…

…Endless fruitless circle, cold thrush,
So infected, this dark heart does gush.

Bleeding out here for all to point and see,
The difference between you and me.

…Is I make it my purpose to hold and heal,
While you are a criminal, one-sided chance to steal.
Thomas Spychalski 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: