My pains in life are so an open book,
My face lines have nothing concealed,
Walk past, give me that second look
Horrified at the revelations revealed.
Could you use those lines to write
All of my violent angst and stresses
While shaking inside with no respite
Like my author wills and also blesses.
Blessed me with little or no will
As I am a puppet being mastered,
Preordained with sad mighty skill
By a Biblical Fatherless bastard.
Strong words I regrettably know
Will ruffle so a few dove feathers,
But hardship runs so terribly slow -
A canter of my mad endeavours.
Yes I drank and was a sad drunk
But it did not numb the mad pain,
Like a wounded ship I deeply sank
To rock bottom again and again.
Take his pen, can your ink flow
More gracefully than my before,
Take the present time to know
Human nature at its deepest core.
Upbringing and peer pressure
Can influence, shape and form,
Individually can get the better
Of an innocent victim's norm.
Superficial zombies like me
Earth's lonely streets engulf,
Stare hard and you might see
A lamb beneath a howling wolf.
If you could so write my last chapter
Would an understanding Lady unfold,
And would we live happily ever after
As my greatest love story ever told.
Copyright Andrew Stevenson 12/03/2017
This poem denotes mental illness. The phrase 'Biblical Fatherless bastard' in the last line of the third stanza is indicative of the Devil.
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