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.