Choices
The man walks on,
through the nightmares and dreams,
his only intent
to be wanted (it seems).
Looking in through a window
from out in the cold—
watching softly as
his family unfolds.
Knowing he’ll never be safe
or warm within,
for you see— his existence
has been branded a sin.
Though he yearns to be welcomed,
and has stories to tell,
he chooses his silence...
creating his hell.
Will he ever be happy?
Surely not. He believes
he belongs with the beggars,
the artists, the thieves.
A long time ago
he gave up his true voice.
The true tragedy here is
that he made his own choice.
Hide and seek with his soul,
the only way to win,
is to drown in the drink...
bury it deep within.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
