H ow is it possible to have so much hate A midst all of those that I’m ordered to love. T orn by the need to stay here and fight- R eeling from weakness I thought I’d outlived, E dging towards a fall I must stop, I’m D odging the arrows, to keep keeping on.
F rightened that I’m not as young or as smart, O lder than I ought to be at my age, I’m R emembering when I wielded weapons of youth.
M y armies of wit were were invincible then, Y et now only shadows of warriors past.
E nemies bumping the sore spots they caused me, with N ever a thought or respect for my toil, I E nvy their callous neglect of my pain and M emorize odes to the loathing I feel. I light bonfires of hatred and hope not to get burned E scaping through tunnels of madness and fear into S afer environs where I can breathe free. ljm
I love acrostics and have written many of them. This was written after a VERY bad day at work. For James.