Jun 2016
Stand.
Fight.
Fall.
Poor man,
Chained to his own memories.
Stand on your feet,
Only to tumble down violently,
Why do you keep torturing yourself?
Poor man,
Resolving a lost cause.
Tell you've found the missing piece,
Only to find it not to be the one.
Why do you run in circles?
Poor man,
Sulking in his misfortune.
Traversing a ruined world.
Walking in wounded feet.
Why do you persist?
Poor man,
Contemplating impossibility.
Blood dripping from his wounds;
Wounds to him, unbeknownst;
Why do you continue?
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
I am never poor.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Poor not am I.
Chained, but not imprisoned.
Tumble down, yes.
Only to stand taller than before.
I make myself stronger.
Poor not am I.
Resolving a lost cause I may be,
Igniting a spark of possibility.
Strive to find the missing piece.
I run in circles but not aimlessly.
Poor not am I.
Traversing ruins, I may do,
Wounded may be my feet;
I seek of the treasure incomparable to words;
I persist as I'd never give up.
Poor not am I.
My contemplation will be fulfilled.
My wounds will be tended;
I continue this fate I venture;
I am not at end, but at beginning.
Fall.
Stand.
Fight.
Fight.
Fall.
Poor man,
Chained to his own memories.
Stand on your feet,
Only to tumble down violently,
Why do you keep torturing yourself?
Poor man,
Resolving a lost cause.
Tell you've found the missing piece,
Only to find it not to be the one.
Why do you run in circles?
Poor man,
Sulking in his misfortune.
Traversing a ruined world.
Walking in wounded feet.
Why do you persist?
Poor man,
Contemplating impossibility.
Blood dripping from his wounds;
Wounds to him, unbeknownst;
Why do you continue?
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
I am never poor.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Poor not am I.
Chained, but not imprisoned.
Tumble down, yes.
Only to stand taller than before.
I make myself stronger.
Poor not am I.
Resolving a lost cause I may be,
Igniting a spark of possibility.
Strive to find the missing piece.
I run in circles but not aimlessly.
Poor not am I.
Traversing ruins, I may do,
Wounded may be my feet;
I seek of the treasure incomparable to words;
I persist as I'd never give up.
Poor not am I.
My contemplation will be fulfilled.
My wounds will be tended;
I continue this fate I venture;
I am not at end, but at beginning.
Fall.
Stand.
Fight.
Nonsense
