Done Fighting

Like a mystical wight, Ain't in a trance, Nor experiencing delusions and phantasmagoria. I live. I fight, Fighting Because the decision to be free Is that which I took freely, Yet, criticized with unsparing vigor, Cruel and baseless calumnies. The past is gone, The future is a dream, All I got is now and only now, Enormities of crime and anomalies of law I care not, The quest to be real engulfed my thoughts, But still afraid of reincarnation, Then I skipped religion and politics, Ready to die for my passion, Because in the final analysis of my life, The only true bulwark against penury is to hustle, Become self actualized or die trying. Free from all controversial pettifogging, I still pen with sledgehammer directness, Heavily freighted with erudition, For you to fain believe, In language terse yet familiar. I'm not far from the street, Words! Justifiable in certain exigencies. In a world full of trends, I remained trendy, Devoid of mulishness. I glitter, You wish to wear my shoes. Pain is inevitable, Suffering is optional, Snitches who treated me wrong, Have made me strong, Yesterday, I wasn't in a rush to figure out everything, Embraced the unknown, And today my life has surprised me With that which would have scared you. A Stewart Annie Everestus's poem © 2019