Malcolm Burrell Poet Free verse

A Thought

I hate the world, for this am
i wrong?
  Other than my seeds that grow, 
one knows i'm alive.
  Alone in this jungle trying to
survive.
  I refuse to be weak, for only the
strong survive. 
  Rejected everyday, simply longing
for affection.
  Yet i'm still refused, forced into
mental castration.
  Begging, and praying to the lord
for salvation.
  So for one second, i can escape 
enslavement on my mental plantation.
   Starring into the heavens longing
to be free.
   Why must i die, just to hear someone 
say they love me?

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Darlene De Beaulieu April 14, 2021 at 12:07 PM Hello Malcolm Burrell, so nice to meet you. Your last line says it all. Enjoy your day my friend.

James Long July 12, 2020 at 10:56 PM What is love, ours; offered to us by our Creator to offer away the very same way? Everything that we are unwilling to let go of, teaches any of us all but nothing; except the detriment of grief within our constant action taken upon this effort. Until we settle for the consistent, and continuing peace, and freedom, and glorious harmony, with our Creator, with all life, with ourselves. Well friend, sorry, there is no doubt continuing, that our undesired grief, will most certainly; remain.