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CMXIClement Jun 2020
Through the tunnel, distant voices.
Through the tunnel, I see them.
Through the tunnel, the shadows strafe.
Through the tunnel, raging noises.

Through this tunnel all danger is funneled... does this keeps me protected and safe?

The inner walls, are drab and dreary.
The inner walls, comprised of the past.
The inner walls, lined with scars and sores.
The inner walls, are tired, weary.

The tunnel is caving? Yes, from pain I was braving from words, actions, and more.

A foxhole, a foxhole, only as good as its structure.
A foxhole, a tunnel, only as good as its shelter.
A tunnel, a defense, only good when intact.
A defense, a defense, will fall when punctured.

This defense mechanism is a curse and will worsen the person it was meant to protect.

This defense, this defense, is a watery grave.
This defense, this foxhole, is filling up fast.
This foxhole, this trap, no longer has purpose.
This trap, this trap, was not meant to save.
CMXIClement Jun 2020
To be captured,
by the radiance in your eyes,
the flow of your hair.

To be enamored by your grace,
to be a guest of honor in your life.
to be a recipient of what makes people love you.

To be a part of your family, and a family for once.
To have a place in your lineage, and a place for once.
To have a place in your heart, and someone's heart for once.

I'm independent, yet I want to be claimed.
I'm my own person, but I want to be owned.
I'm my own man, but I want to be someone's.
CMXIClement Jun 2020
Mid-summer breezes..
The scent of freshly cut grass
Death can smell so sweet.
Grass random I do not know let us see
CMXIClement Jun 2020
A cold, cold winter.
City sleeps and I'm awake,
During that summer.
CMXIClement Jun 2020
Alone he walks down a rocky road,
shadow scattered with winding turns.
With canvas sacks he carries this load.
While eyes fall sleepy and muscles burn.

Each step taken with intention,
To reach the end of this twisted path.
Each step fueled by retention
of memories from distant past.

Alone he walks, as shadows laugh.
Nocturnal creatures stare, and jeer.
His lonely journey a social gaffe,
He takes solace behind a stoic veneer.

He never had roots, as the trees beside him.
But he met other caiteoiri along the way.
He spoke with them in moonlight dim,
With unspoken knowing that they would stray.

Not well understood, this roving man.
But those that tried could see his heart.
A vagabond that most have banned.
For reasons only seen in part.

Cricket chirps, they sound then subside
as he nears them along the crooked way.
They pick back up with distance wide.
He can sense the awful things they say.

He did not ask for this nightly trek.
Or to carry the burden of this sailcloth sack.
Sympathy is rarely a prospect.
Some folks never wander this stony track.

Some will say they understand,
but those that do, they know the truth.
That to say such things is sleight of hand.
No one can really know but you.
CMXIClement Jun 2020
The pipes are frozen,
no heat or water.
The toilet to the brim with **** again.
We'll need two buckets.  
One for the toilet,
And one to ask the neighbors for water.
She used the shovel,
I asked for water.
I always hated the looks I got.
Looks of pity,
and mixed with disdain.
I walk to the kitchen, trash littered.
I look in the fridge,
There is nothing there.
Thank god there was a free meal program.
I would rush to school,
to get there early.
To make sure I got enough to eat.
I feel lucky.
Some kids don't have it.
But I can't forget my ribs showing.
Partly depression.
Partly their drug use.
Food stamps sell for fifty cents per dollar.
I look around and
Notice things are gone.
My room missing things they pawned off for cash.
I was never home.
That did not exist.
Just a house full of people I burdened.
I get back from school,
And the house is dark.
Never know where they go when they are gone.
I go to my room.
And I sit and cry.
Wishing someone would come home to see me.
I wanted a life.
One that was normal.
One where I was not so empty inside.
And under the bed
A razor is tucked.
A lesson learned from watching my sister.
Suicides an option:
Another lesson,
As I watched her overdose on the floor.
Life was empty and...
Was intermingled..
With fear, and anxiety, and sadness.
I would peer across
to the neighbors house.
I wondered what it was like to be them.
Seeing happiness...
I had to suppress
All the heartache and tears I longed to spill.
What could I have done?
Was this punishment?
My wants were so simple but no one cared.
They did not like me.
I reminded them
Of a man whose faults they embellished.
I woke one morning.
I heard noise downstairs.
Most of our items were now all curbside.
We were evicted,
but no one told me.
One day you have a home, then you do not.
Sheriff department
The following spring
Came into our house and emptied it all.
My last memory
Was of the neighbors,
Watching our family, our life on the street.
We left most items.
We took what we could.
We found a ****** house by the train tracks.
The house was condemned,
the landlord cared little.
But...that house is a story for later.
Enduring these things,
Your dreams become simple.
You dream for things people take for granted.
My dream was simple.
It is still simple.
To love, and be loved.  To help those in pain.
When you scale the wall,
Do not hop over.
Turn back, and look down to those outstretched hands.
To those now struggling,
Keep pressing forward.
I know it seems daunting, keep pressing on.
You suffered too much
To not be happy.
Go through the swamp 'til you see the meadow.
It exists, it does.
Beyond the veil
Of pain and agony, joy is waiting.
If anyone ever needs anyone to talk to, please do not hesitate.  There are so many who have gone through so much more, but I have gone through enough to know the power of empathy.  I am here, I promise.
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