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?
Copyright © Malcolm Burrell | Year Posted 2020
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