Dead cupids, Shot by Withered Roses

Growing up being hated, being nearly killed by your guardian, being harassed everyday, being an outcast, being unwanted, I can't help but let the mind be crowded by the thoughts of my misgivings.

Being depressed, being hopeless, being in constant heartache, one goes through life tired and desolate.

Walking alone in the dark nights, with no place to call home, wishing death would find you. Take away the pain and misery.

The dogs bark, snarl and wish they were free of their chains so that they could ravish me, wouldn't be a bad idea.

Where do you turn when God keeps quiet and He seems mythical?

One dream, not dreamt fully is that of revenge.

That one day I will have my revenge, that day.

So the hate keeps me alive, thoughts of inflicting my wrath.

It gives me renewed vigor to get through my day.

But hey; the Lord got me, He came finally and now it is past.

I welcome a new era, one of forgiveness, one of hope, one of resilience towards hate.

The resolve is; to love, not knowing what that is, I decide to be in love.

So for my birthday all you can give me is love, I believe
someone out there has got it.

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About Unknown

Poetry is love.