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Poem

Speak not rose of lady youth in manner now barbarian, 
In presence yet uncouth.

Unworthy of a dirt which lives traverse. 
A specter of recluse, a sum indeed perverse.

Finger of defiance, solitary stone. 
No right to see a sun hath ever shone.

Those agree will likewise see a darker hour. 
Compassions mote wherein will stay no power.

Door of redemption, light high-gloried path, 
So spilt each night in blind were I a different 
Troubled mind, 

Each time left un-renewed, 
But never left behind.

Self-imposed injunction, writ of fear upon us all
For lessor treasons to each heart. 

A scaffolding erected long before all conscious minds 
Could comprehend.

Hateful bully, now forgiven, intellectually sad. 
Shallow grave lain upon a lifetime lived.

Presence of a lonely heart from start to start. 
Am I my sister’s keeper after all. 

Could I become more than I am.
Released to choose a life I’m given. 

Die a death to which all souls are driven.
What life but lonely search unknown. 

Touch or sound from whence we come, 
To walk upon this earth left splintered, 

Shaken un-mistaken, for the life to which we’re bound.

Give me the ball, sir, I will go with pride so forth. 

All iniquity done for less the worth.
I have no tear to cry. 

I will love this life and all until I have no will to try 
Then close my eye in awe 

And taste nor tarry blood now un-remaining.  
Relinquish proof of sound 

To both thine ears un-staining.

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