Like a statue,
standing in the frozen rain.
Doused in lustful pain.
Open season for ridicule.
Open season for mockery.
Open up your miniscule, let us see.
Tattered, beaten, shattered.
That which once did live.
The one thing left from the strife.
A bleeding man, on the last limbs of his life.
Doubtful return of a youthful spirit,
laying at God’s feet.
Bruised, used, abused, amused.
Hardened from the lack of attention,
paranoid of deception,
looking over the shoulder, looking around,
always in observation.
Face to face, with it.
Face to face with him.
Lifting his head up,
the man of malice and misconduct, misused made mistakes.
All things gone in a shrieking title wave.
Greif such a gruesome thing,
feeble into no end.
Old and out of control,
losing all chances of hope.
A neck half way in the rope.
Kicking, and fighting back,
the best he can, just so he’s not to die helplessly on the rack.
Thankful for the spotlight,
always asked for it, even if it wasn’t right.
Shame is a pain,
and regret is irremovable stain.
This is life, this is the way it is.
All for hate, share some rage. |
