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Came out of rusty bars, with nothing but black stripes on me. I walk down the street alone, seeing everyone else with no stripes on. Their stares pierced through my innocence, as if my sins were still fresh for years. But someone held my head high, gave me a identity, purpose and forgiveness. He gave me a second chance, even when everyone else can't. I walk down the street not alone, but with someone who filled me with hope.
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Dec 24, 2019
Dec 24, 2019 at 7:42 AM UTC
Hope
Came out of rusty bars, with nothing but black stripes on me. I walk down the street alone, seeing everyone else with no stripes on. Their stares pierced through my innocence, as if my sins were still fresh for years. But someone held my head high, gave me a identity, purpose and forgiveness. He gave me a second chance, even when everyone else can't. I walk down the street not alone, but with someone who filled me with hope.
I wrote this poem for a theme "prisoners" :D
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Dec 24, 2019
Dec 24, 2019 at 7:42 AM UTC
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