"persecuted" poems
All these kids,
They cry,
Scream,
And *****
"I WANT FREEDOM FROM MY PARENTS!"
That simple freedom does not concern me.
I want freedom, but not just from my parents so I can stay out late.
I want freedom,
From my peers,
From my family,
From the government,
And from myself.
I want to be free to walk down the halls,
Hand in hand with a girl,
Who I'm in love with.
I want to be able to do that,
With no fear in my heart.
No worries or names called,
Or punches thrown.
I want that freedom.
I want the freedom to be able to bring a girl home,
And show her to my parents,
And tell her how much I love her,
In front of them.
I want to be able to talk to my mom,
About relationship problems,
About the GIRL who broke my heart,
But I cant.
I want the freedom to marry.
To marry any person I choose,
No matter the gender.
Male,
Or female,
It should not matter.
My happiness,
And the way I spend my life,
Is not something that should be voted on,
By those with half a brain.
I want freedom from myself,
To accept me,
And be who I am,
Without any shame.
But I can't do that,
Unless I have the freedom from others,
To be me,
And be happy with that.
I want the freedom to be gay.
Some may complain,
That the gays are already free,
Too much maybe.
But that is not the case.
We're not persecuted,
But we're not free.
All throughout history there has been movements for freedom.
There was one of religious freedom,
When puritans came to the New World from Britain.
A war was started,
And freedom came out with a victory.
There was one of freedom for slaves,
So that they could live the lives they wanted,
And not have to be owned,
And treated like property,
By another human being.
Once again,
A war was started,
And the slaves were freed.
There was one of freedom for women,
So that women could be the same as men,
Equals.
There were marches,
And protests,
And women rights came out on top.
There was one of freedom for those of color,
So that they can mix,
And mingle,
With the race that whites thought was superior.
There were marches,
And sit ins,
Protests,
And brawls,
But guess who won in the end?
We are working towards freedom of LGBTQ,
lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, questioning/queer,
And one way or another,
We will eventually get our freedom.
Look at all these past freedom movements,
There were always two sides to it.
Which side are you on?
Is it the right one?
This is not the land of the free and the home of the brave.
This is the land of the *** ******* cowards,
And the home of the "You can be free, if we allow it."
I think its about time we either lived up to our motto,
Or changed it.
Jan 2, 2014
Jan 2, 2014 at 11:14 PM UTC
Woof.....woof.....woof...woof....woof....wooof
Some Red setters dogs are eating Jewish people
in England
But why, do call them off, they are british people,
The are hard working, Industrious, Entrepreneurs,
Professors, Doctors, Lawyers, Bankers, Entertainers
Scientists, Writers, eminent Surgeons, Artists, these
are nice Britons....stop the dogs, stop the dogs.....
Woof....woof....woof.....woof.....woof...woof woof
Some Red Setters dogs are eating and biting some
Labour MPs all over the country
But why, do call off the dogs, No! we have a list and this list, highlighted the behaviour of a number of Left MPs, including Jess Phillips for telling Corbyn’s ally Diane Abbott to **** off”, John Woodcock for dismissing the party leader as a ******* disaster” and Tristram Hunt for describing Labour as “in the ****
and all the other hard working Moderate MPs who dared protest at Anti-Semitic stance or supported the Jews .
Woof.....woof....woof....woof.....woof.....woof...woof
Some Red Setters dogs are devouring some minor
Royal from Africa
But why, do call off the dogs. No that ****** has a big **** he's
Charismatic, intelligent, wholesome, has good work ethics, polite,
wise, charming, generous, witty and a ****** good lover and to top it all he's Royal. Now that's ******* GREEDY, how much can a
******* man have. NO! he's a goner. He is too perfect, he must be hounded and persecuted to death.
Woof....woof....woof.....woof.....woof.....woof.......woof
Grrr.....woof.....Grrrrr....woof...wooof...Grrrr....wooof
Congratulations People, we have got rid of them all
we now have real democracy, we have a real society now
Get in the dogs ... And all you useless ******* people shut up!
And report to the Labor Camps 7:30a.m. tomorrow
You're Working Class and now you ****** have to work!
Sep 12, 2018
Sep 12, 2018 at 6:45 PM UTC
The wicked and the fearful will spite you, they will lie on you and tell false tales. The truth is not always easy, but it is the right way. Doing what is right is not always popular, but it is a better way to live. Working to make things better has it's own reward. Though you may not obtain wealth and prominence, to see peace in your time is a good thing. Hold fast to your beliefs and seek to walk the right path. Though you are persecuted, you will never go wrong doing the right thing.
Feb 19, 2017
Feb 19, 2017 at 9:28 AM UTC
we look at TV screens that show
thousands of persecuted and bombed-out families
on the run for safety and sheer survival
so sorry
borders are shuttered now
the boat is full no more come in
we have to think of ourselves
so sorry
we sincerely regret that you
are suffering from cold and rain and snow
in your rickety makeshift camps
so sorry
we are sure there’s someone
to take care of all that mess
it’s just not us
so sorry
Mar 13, 2016
Mar 13, 2016 at 4:30 PM UTC
I saw a picture on the internet of a sign
That said “Welcome to Amsterdam. When it’s hot, please dress for the body you have,
Not the body you want. Thanks"
In the vicinity was a large woman wearing a pink crop top and leggings and the
Image was captioned
“Look who didn’t follow the rules!”
I assumed this rogue internet commenter assumed that this woman,
This beautiful, curvy, confident woman,
Didn’t want the body she had.
Why is it always assumed that fat people hate their bodies?
I’m fat and this IS the body I want *********
I love this body!
This body has ******* privilege!
This body has enough melanin to tan easily in summer but not enough
That I’m going to be unjustly persecuted for my skin tone.
This body doesn’t get too cold in the winter.
This body has a home and a family and food to eat!
This body is ABLE to run and jump and walk wherever I want
This body is disease free.
This body can fit into a variety of clothing and look good.
I mean it isn’t perfect -
This body has had an eating disorder.
This body has self harm scars,
This body doesn’t always feel like it’s the right gender
This body has lived through 4 school district changes, a cross country move,
Depression, anxiety, a suicide attempt, high school graduation,
Bullying, finding out that I’m queer, finding out that I’m loved,
My first week of college, 16 days of living on a hiking trail
Thinking I’m ugly and realizing I’m beautiful
But I still want this body!
It’s the only one I have
Sep 17, 2015
Sep 17, 2015 at 12:23 AM UTC
To die,
To fall,
To lose,
In an act of,
Life-giving,
Spirit lifting,
Victory,
Is simply,
Nonsensical,
And yet,
Perfect,
Completely,
Irrational,
And yet,
Thought out,
And so,
Incomprehensible,
With human mind,
But absolutely,
And definitely,
The right thing to do,
Because God loved the world so much,
He would let his own creation,
Take his only son from him,
To save his creation,
From the hands of evil.
And the best thing?
The most amazing and inconceivable thing of all,
Is that he did it for all mankind.
Athiest
Agnostic
Christian
Jew
Muslim
Sikh
Hindu
Buddhist
Black
White
Straight
Gay
Lesbian
Bisexual
Asexual
Boy
Girl
Bigender
Transgender
Agender
Young
Old
Kind
Cruel
Happy
Sad
Rich
Poor
Healthy
Ill
Free
Enslaved
Safe
Afraid
Intelligent
Stupid
Deaf
Blind
Disabled
Handicapped
Single
Taken
Married
Divorced
Remarried
Widowed
Lost
Found
Persecuted
Persecutor
Murderer
Self-harmer
Suicidal
Unloved
Adored
Popular
Ignored
Beautiful
Ugly
Guilty
Innocent
Outcast
Desperate
Autistic
Bulimic
Alcoholic
Bipolar
Addict
Dyslexic
Anorexic
Schizophrenic
SAVED
Every single human being ever born is saved.
Apr 4, 2015
Apr 4, 2015 at 8:34 PM UTC
'Its not gonna work'
'Tbh you're embarrassing yourself'
Thanks
Thats what I needed to hear today
When I hear everyday form my Mom I'm a burden
I especially need to hear that
When my step dad forces pills down my throat
So I'm quiet and
'Don't cause anymore trouble'
I love all that
I'm standing up for what I believe in
And I'm being persecuted for it
Does that make me a martyr?
No
I'm too stupid to be a martyr
To 'embarrassing'
I cause too much 'trouble'
I'm just not worth it.
Oct 8, 2013
Oct 8, 2013 at 11:02 AM UTC
Exes and Ohs
Litter the page
Sprinkled around in a random matter
Without age
Relative to time
Persecuted for that one word
That one crime
Exes and Ohs
Meaningless apart
Like a left ventricle
Without the right heart
Two halves
Of the same bilateral organism
An awkward moment
Nervous laughs
Eyes forward
Minds in each other's pants
Forget needless pleasantries
Deposit in wilting potted plants
Hugs and kisses
Sincerely yours
Tell me why
It's me you ignore
Feb 27, 2011
Feb 27, 2011 at 7:51 PM UTC
Silence. Solvent. Substituted;
subsidised
then marginalised
instituted and muted.
And, often
persecuted.
Rationanalised
by abstraction:
every minuscule
interaction dissected.
All that is left is convoluted,
misconstrued
and rejected.
The lucid bewildered.
The disillusioned bejeweled:
rooted in their state of mind.
Effortlessly self-proclaiming
restraining
and refraining
purging the imagination:
the waning of maligned mankind.
And all of his
illuminated limitations.
Jul 3, 2014
Jul 3, 2014 at 10:38 PM UTC
a desolate bargain
all my dead days with a
crown of thorns
for a single gesture of warmth
all my days
as her silent saint of persecuted tears
my fireside midnight in the comforting
company of what appeared to be angel
their dead languages ring true to
my long deceased heart
feel light as a feather
like the wind itself come to tear
my very soul from the mortal soil of
this unforgiving life
from my burying ground
seen a burning light cresting the east
burned with a silent majesty
an unspoken glory come to lift
my eyes from these dark workings
heard an old man with a child's voice
telling wasn't my crown of thorns to wear
wasn't angles but shadows
come to keep the midnight watch with me
still a saint of her persecuted tears
now that the full weight of
this mortal dirt soul
hangs upon me like a corpse
all the living done wasted away
Dec 1, 2016
Dec 1, 2016 at 4:45 PM UTC
To which would you prefer?
To own a citizenship in the Earth
But lose your own soul?
Or to be a stranger of the World
Where you are persecuted due to your faith
But *not abandoned in Heaven?
Aug 2, 2014
Aug 2, 2014 at 8:52 AM UTC
All this criticism, persecution,
Hatred, scorn,
Thrown towards us,
Two women,
Two men,
Immoral relationship they say,
Against God's word,
That's not the way He wanted it,
But one woman, two men,
Two women, one man,
Nothing's wrong with that,
16 year old teenage girl sleeping with the married man,
Nothing's said about them,
And if something's said, it's done in whispers,
Rumshop or evening gossip,
But me,
Harsh words are thrown my way,
No one cares about the tears they cause,
But when the woman down the road slept with my ex-husband,
I deserved it because I did not do enough to keep him,
They say,
But when I had a one night stand with the woman from the other town,
Words were thrown my way,
Why?
Because when I have ***
There's no product formed from the substrate,
Or because when two products come together, there's no reaction,
Othan than multiple ******* caused by erogenous pleasure,
Or because I use toys,
And you need none,
Or is it because God made Adam and Eve,
And destroyed ***** and Gomorrah,
But he did not make Adam and Eve and the next door neighbour Steve,
And last time I checked he was on the merge of destroying Nineveh.
You say we destroy the definition of marriage or family,
But the contraceptives you use contribute to Global Warming,
Which sounds better?
A home started by a relationship like mine,
Or an Earth that's on the merge of dying?
They say,
That relationships like mine add nothing to society,
But relationships like yours cause fatherless homes,
Contributing to prostitution and gang wars,
Or multiple abortions before the age of 25,
Talking about my acts of erogenous pleasure causing no reaction, no creation,
But relationships like yours cause abortions,
Destruction of life, right in the middle of creation,
You call it abortion I call it ******
Termination of life,
So who's the criminal?
But because of the sexuality placed upon me,
I'm persecuted,
I'm scrutinized,
Verbally abused,
And people like you are easily accepted,
But don't forget,
I'm the product of a heterosexual relationship.
Jul 17, 2011
Jul 17, 2011 at 10:49 AM UTC
*Their voices echo along the threads of time
I read their works on tattered pages
They say their words did but rhyme
Their's were for inspiration,not wages
They told stories like real witnesses
Of agonizing times and sicknesses
The soldiers of their sweet narrations
They say rode on horses of generations
Triumphant over the trend, glorious
Shooting arrows past lineages,like warriors
They fought against pride and Prejudice
Across boundaries, winged like Pegasus
They flew to bring merit of words and lines
And stood the test of time like wild pines
They used sharp words instead of swords
Only received rejection ,sometimes nods
Walked long distances,endured perspiration
Sleepless ,so to cultivate some inspiration
They were young but with mature souls
Their relentless effort vividly like Moles
Burrowed through even hardened hearts
And with needles of kindness stitched cuts
Finely weaved justice on paper like Mats
And spread it for the world,across all parts
When speech was hated and persecuted
They stood strong and instead recruited
The course of changes threatened to slay
Erosion corroded letters worse than clay
Their beautiful hearts where kindness lay
Were battered and butchered causing hope to decay
A season came when all was but a lost cause
And were tales of how once upon a time it was
Yet again like a phoenix someday they rose
From the ashes of history, how? Nobody knows
They were stronger and mightier than mortals
And travelled through un fathomed portals
They built a very powerful mental kingdom
Above the prestigious tower of wisdom
Where they reigned like the fires on doom at Mordor
Freed so many prisoners of their situations
Across the entire universe and her nations
Gave them keys so they unlock more doors
Stanzas crawled like maggots across all avenues
With mixed feelings the world received the news
Though were skewed to embracing the return
Because for once they saw a flame of peace burn
Their tears were wiped by every piece they read
Poets let them realize war wasn't only in their head
Reason flowed like waters in fountains and streams
Readers believed once again in their dreams
And like poetry and poets they didn't sit back and cry
Every poem they read,sad or not told them to get up and try
And when they finally got victory over their inner strife
Not even once did they forget poems changed their life*
Jun 14, 2015
Jun 14, 2015 at 4:01 PM UTC
Journeyman Pictures
Will take you on a journey
The DVB journalists
Jailed and tortured
They showed the military
Shooting at protesters
They hid on the balcony and filmed
They got footage
Of the Japanese journalist
Who was shot by the military
Another journalist
Helped make
An award winning
Documentary
About the devistating
Cyclone that hit Cambodia
In 2009
He was captured and jailed
For years
He had promised to write
The girl he met
From his documentary
But could not because
He was jailed
He made his own guitar
While he was
Wrongfully jailed
He is a good man
He just wanted to show
What the people were going through
Now he has been released
An executive from DVB media
Came to talk
With the Burmese officials
In 2009
About having their own
Official office
Some of the journalists
Have spoken out
About how they
Were tortured
Things are improving
Although it is a process
I hope DVB succeeds
And is not pestered
Or persecuted by the government
Any longer
This poem is dedicated
To the journalists
Who went through
Great hardships
To show the injustices
Of their government
Who wanted to document
What the people
Went through
After the cyclone
Oct 15, 2015
Oct 15, 2015 at 4:09 PM UTC
At the end of the road to Damascus
There paved a street called Straight
Where lay the home of Judas
A blinded Pharisee did await
For hands layed on by Aranias
Saul now Paul the converted Pharisee
Again could walk the street of Straight
No longer blinded he now could see
Returning back to Jerusalem
Persecuted by King Agrippa
And perform the acts of apostles
I still seek to take my first step
On my own road to Damascus
To walk the street called Straight
Find my way out of this blackness
r 7Oct2013
Nov 7, 2013
Nov 7, 2013 at 3:42 PM UTC
There is a silent street
Where poets go
And a tiger color of light
Rains down, a search
That is never found
Via symbols at the end
Of literature and pages
Mere metaphors for
The creative process
Of image and narrative
The act of encapsulation
Experience, such a myth
Like memory, only a ripple
Of the original, so the authors
Glimpse something unreal
And seek to translate it
But the poets know, they
Will never come through
Their vertigo of dream
Writing in the wind
On the sand in the desert
Catching reflections in the river
Of the sky, the essence
Is forever lost, of each moment
Only we can approximate
In art, part of the beauty
Of creation and hunt persecuted
Through time, the testaments
OF sun, wheat, flower, pomegranate
Bumble-bee, united at the same
Address, of autumn on a terrace
Somewhere near you.
Nov 2, 2014
Nov 2, 2014 at 5:25 PM UTC
My arms you cannot touch
my voice you cannot hear
my tears you cannot wipe away
but my heart is pierced by your cries
my ears hear your silent wails
on the other side of this world
i know your pains but
i do not feel you -
oh faceless one!
oh persecuted one!
do not lose yourself because
of these deathly struggles
do not let the fire burn down
finish the race sweet sibling of faith-
get your reward at Jesus' feet
receive the applause of the
myriad of angels
and let the heavens embrace
you in its bossom
Feb 29, 2016
Feb 29, 2016 at 7:42 PM UTC
COOKING ***
I looked around me
everything was dark
as if my own eyes where completely shut,
that the would had come to an end,
my eyelids where very heavy
like I had a sleeping spell on me,
I was seeing things that were given me
very bad dreams;
the stars are all on dim
while they skip around the sky,
upon the sea, I seen the reflections of he
standing over me;
the colored moon beamed upon the land
upon everything my eyes could see;
I tried so hard to open my eyes
But I couldn’t it was as if I was dead,
I dreamed many dreams in my head
I see things of an ancient time,
I felt I have been bond to my bed;
As if I was quite insane of true madness,
In my mind, I seen different set of eye
Looking back at me from another time,
I see slaves dancing around me,
Crying out to a king that stands before me,
The sky was dark; the fair is hot;
I could see a big cooking ***
Words of their time wasn’t of mine,
you could feel the evil all around;
While the anger browed in the ***
Words of truth wasn’t in their mouths,
Lies and so much hate with not faith,
Witches are casting out their evil spells,
Giving a queen a life of a living hell,
Their face turned to me
as I started to scream,
I seen many things that come to me
like something of darken dreams,
they were very old holding no youth,
I forget your name they would say
In a cloud of smoke;
Frogs are being tossed in the old cooking ***
a chicken tongue, black bird eyes,
bugs of the desert land,
the thunder in the ancient sky roared while
the storm moved on by;
I see holly ones being persecuted;
The words of accurate knowledge
Was told to never be promoted on the land
Where the old witches stand
on blood, stained sand, that was a command,
words of truth are forbidden;
enemies casting names of thee into the *** of hell
while some where rings a bell;
bodyguards taken the prison ones
out of the cage; those who has lost their way,
ravens are flying around to eat up on the dead
the ones who has lost their heads,
words of temptations of the flash
dancing around the cooking ***
my body started feeling cold
I didn’t have no more control
While lies where being told,
My eyelids where heavy as they could be
While I was cast into a deep sleep.
Poetic Judy Emery © 2017
The Queen Of Darken Dreams Poetic Lilly Emery
Mar 22, 2017
Mar 22, 2017 at 3:01 PM UTC
I see the sad color of racism not every other day
But every second of the hour, all minutes of the day
I see the serious mental and physical damages
That this cancer has done throughout the ages
And is still doing to our beloved human beings
The others treat our People like they are leftover beans
On a petty pet's plate. Our people deserve respect
Fairness, justice, equality, acknowledgement
Compassion, credit and better treatment
Our sisters are tired of being left out on the deck
Our siblings are often harassed senselessly, persecuted
Falsely accused and relentlessly prosecuted
At one time, they were hunted and hounded by the system
At other time, hindered and haunted by an organized medium
Created to attack, destroy, burn, ravage and annihilate
To embarrass, marginalize, ridicule, punish and discriminate
I see the color of racism, when the police for no apparent reasons
Stopped, frisked and handcuffed our homeless, our elderlies
Or our law abiding citizens, like it was open seasons
To hunt for mule deer or bears, who behave like enemies
Of the civilized society. I see the sick color of racism
When our people are not hired not for being unqualified
But because of their skin color; they're quickly disqualified
Dismissed, fired or terminated. I see the monster of cynicism
All golly minutes of the day. The arrogance is unparalleled
Beyond belief. The racists forgot that God only created one race
One human race, one human race, one **** human race.
Their false pride, their fake supremacy, their ignorance is unleveled
And their audacity is incomparable. I see the colors of racism
Not that I want to search for them, not that I want to find them
Most of the time, I simply cannot elude, evade or escape them
It is not easy to ignore the litanies of bad or negative mannerisms
The bigots easily function like virulent or venomous vipers
That **** out the emotions, and that destroy all positive characters
Our lives, Black lives, like other lives, are sacramental and important
And our contributions to the world are significant
I see the ugly and surly color of racism not every other day
But every second of the hour, every minute of the **** day.
Copyright © February 24,2015, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.
Sep 11, 2025
Sep 11, 2025 at 1:07 AM UTC
Blessed are they which are persecuted for righteousness’ sake: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Beaten and abused, ill-treated,
Though you never gave them cause,
Pushed around, exploited, cheated,
--Not for breaking any laws--
Only for the path you followed,
Seeking Truth and giving Grace,
Trusting in that Name, so hallowed,
Glory shining in your face.
Righteousness that made them spiteful,
Goodness that brought out their worst,
Now you’ve suffered for what’s rightful,
Like the prophets from the first.
Lift your heads up, all afflicted,
Know there comes another day,
When the Kingdom, as predicted
Comes into your hands to stay.
Apr 30, 2017
Apr 30, 2017 at 7:18 PM UTC
The persecutor feels
persecuted
because the persecuted
speak out
Jun 29, 2013
Jun 29, 2013 at 10:48 AM UTC
Full Moon
Barefoot; each step sinking in mud
splashes of rain marry with
crimson drops in a puddle
of stormed waves
from an opened heaven
She kneels to the ground
simultaneously glancing
left, right, behind
cheeks blushed, her soul falling
as teardrops - her lowest ebb.
Ripping her cotton dress
she replaces blood soaked rags -
it’s been six days.
This war within herself
at only twelve years of age
Every nineteen days
her body a vessel; a period
of girlhood abruptly ends,
womanhood demurred.
Each & every month
persecuted;
Jesus nailed to a cross.
Amidst war-torn streets
fleeing torched homes
civil war displacing
orphaned sisters –
*****
As militants continue to
prevail over children’s
innocence
Washing her sin away
red body fluids disperse
in mud, rain, water, soil -
her reflection lost
alongside any remaining dignity
On those same knees
Badriyyah pleads with God
to no longer bring forth
the fertility of conception
each cursed month.
Congolese civil wars
scraped away landscapes
Mother Nature
scraped away internal walls
& month after month
after month after month
this period endures
& a child of the night
stays hidden from sight.
© Sia Jane
Mar 5, 2015
Mar 5, 2015 at 7:38 PM UTC
Beside me, in this unforgiving November’s winter, is she…
My queen beside me, amidst this rotting debris gifted to me.
Daphne, the comforter sent from the highest skies of Elysia
And Daphne, my love, you put a stopper… on my withering
Never did the sounding of a name, here, blossom a magnolia
Daphne, yours made my hell, the eternal orchards of Elysia.
We were betrothed to each other in here, in this wasteland
I await; you at our wedding, in your wedding gown, oh…
‘Tis her, the beau sky wrapped around your gentle frame
In your adornments, gifted from the agents of light, oh…
They are sapphire stars plucked from that midnight blue
On the edge of the Aegean sea, we await, in this wasteland
I await; you at our wedding, in your veil and crown, oh…
‘Tis her, the clouds and her raindrops, adorning your face
I await our wedding waltz, in our deserted fields, oh…
Without our kin, persecuted and orphaned by the world
Alone we shall dance, on the edge of Ymos, our dwelling
Alone we shall be in our vows when our eyes rain in joy
I await your grand advent, beaming gleefully, towards me
Bringing me, serenity; being my succour, with your smile
I await your silhouette, irradiating the wide evening blue
Bringing me, release; being my soother, now I live anew
Daphne, your midnight blue eyes, your voice of mead…
My pen fervently gallops for words, as I just gaze in awe
Let the sands of time tick away in joy, ticking, grain by grain
The heavens merry till the penultimate hours of our union
Now, in these salty Aegean waters, I taste honey and wine
I await our pristine union; as your hand knots with mine.
Beside me, in this unforgiving November’s winter, is you…
Daphne…
Nov 30, 2020
Nov 30, 2020 at 5:35 AM UTC
Just a boy who never wished to have hatred in his heart, seeing people abused was a daily thing. He had his fair share of beatings and run-ins with near death. This would all fuel his rage and hatred towards the persecutor. He felt it consume him and he did not want that, he did not want to be like his father when we grew up filled of hatred and self-loathing. So anytime he could he went up the hills to the mountains and overlooked the city. He sat there for hours writing or meditating. He constantly told himself "Do not hate the persecutor, for he himself was persecuted and knows of no other way". At only 14 years of age he came to understand what others never have. It was imprinted in him perfectly; the cycle as he liked to call it, and he wish nothing more than to break it. So there he sat surrounded by nature taking in the chirping of new born birds, the breeze swaying through the leaves, the sun warming up his skin. He closed his eyes and took all this in as he let go of the hatred to his father and brother, the resentment of his mother, the jealousy of his sister. This is how he cleansed his soul, this is how he stayed pure, this is how he was able to come home everyday, this is how he stayed strong.
Now he takes others, to the place where he found solace. He tells others how to let go of past harm n not let it influence future thoughts. He tells them to scream at the top their lungs everything they've built up, and then close their eyes n to listen to the wind, n feel the sun creeping on their skin. He helps and try's to heal his friends, cause everywhere he goes all he sees is pain.
Aug 4, 2013
Aug 4, 2013 at 12:36 PM UTC