This Isn'T a Poem

........but a story of a boy who chose to live even before he was born — of a boy who chose sweet over emeralds. for the learned they might find one or two similar contrariness like how he sold (... .......) his breath for bread or as how he chose contemporary to tradition or how he hates his addiction Sadly, this isn't poetry. this is about a boy — if you should know whose parents — or I will say guardians preferred now for later; to eat than to cater among his peers (a mocking pair) he plays from the bench or in front of the trench always makes decision after a third regret. This is a boy who in his infants days like bubbles on leaves glitters from Sun rays but a few years later those bubbles can no longer be found on leaves but on his face as he live—d day by day to sustain his breath — a breath he had since sold for bread. This piece is far from being a poem you can say your boy's Will — if the chosen word rhymes with bill or you can say his naming ceremony speech If he indeed lived that long Or maybe his eulogy If he had friends or loved ones. Yet his story lives on Maybe when he grows up If he will ever grow up He will tell a different story Of his days of glory. ?? Pinterest