It’s a struggle
No matter how many poems I wrote.
Writing expresses my feelings and lack of understanding of life.
I’m still labeled and yet even more misunderstood by those who claim that they care.
And let’s not express the word LOVE…
Let’s not even use that word
I’m not the same man I was years ago.
Changes made in more ways than I can express or explain to myself without looking in the mirror.
Life would do that to you.
Broken down man who just seem to be misused not often abused but loved less
I do my best, at times I just can’t get through to people or others for understanding.
That’s who I am.
I can’t explain love enough it’s hard just like the hard times of my life.
A battle between me and once again the term struggle is the word used to explain my personal life and I’m blocked away. The back of my mind; a safe place for me to be who I should be. I’m here
Truth is I’ll die for you.
I’ll fight with my last breath, for you.
I’ll carry on my war path with stained blood and tears.
Nothing heartless about this, I’ve felt the pain
I’m a fighter to the end.
Just like my thoughts my feeling are like gold to my soul.
A precious life source that breathes life to me.
Like water in a wooden cup, the contents are valuable.
I’m labeled heartless though I know better than anyone the pain that comes to someone weaken, broken down and have been a slave to pain.
What’s so heartless about this? I have no labels.