My world is a history of pain
Verbal razors slashing soft skin
Anguish built in like ruptured blood vessels
The value of my heart credit scored zero
Equal to the weight of
That vaporous vehicle I call my soul

My world is a history of
Faded welts and bruises
Anger expressed on my flesh
As if my body was her canvass
A blank slate to paint my face
With all of her pain and rage
As if I was her property
To violate with the day’s
Disappointments and frustrations

My world is the heart of hopeful failures
Tentative steps toward lighter skies
Striving to find brighter eyes
Eager fellows improving stranger’s lives
But the human soil is salted
And kindness seldom rises from this
Broken farm of human despair

My world is a cross between
The crosses I bare to have a dream
And all of those stifled screams
Caught by my pillow case
A heart half way gone to outer space
And planted stiffly here between
The cut scenes of this human race

My world is half lies and half truth
And I am not certain
Which mindset will win
Still, I struggle to be better
But only the eulogies and memorials
Will ever know for sure