My vision was obscured from
the blood in my eyes.
So, I used that to write my notes
down in red, I transcribed…
Yet I’m alive, heart almost numb,
seeking an escape route from this
oppression and feelings of opprobrium…
For he or she who has no reform is lost,
being acumen has no real cost.
Striving, living, possibly
and hopefully forgiven…
I stood alone, lonely,
the phonies had so much acrimony…
That alone made me strong
knowing that obligation was to
the most high…growth.

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.