Heavy SoulA Poem by Dutch Jr.
My soul weighs a ton. Let me try to explain.
Cold air's heavy, along with that anchor, ball, chain, Shackles, locks with out keys or combinations, Spellbinding circles, in my cell patiently waiting, Learning that time's nothing more than an illusion. Artistry on the walls, I'm just drawing conclusions, Cell blacker on the inside, I'm darker on the out, But I'm darkest in my insides, marching through a drought. I sit alone in this room, darkness the only thing near, I close my eyes and everything became so clear. I saw a man that looked identical to me, Open my eyes, my vision rendered me to see. Three days overdue sleep, Like the Shepard with no dog, and 442 sheep. Head nodding, either from insomnia or the music in my head, Cremated my hope, I just knew that it was dead. But like the Phoenix, ashes turned to charrs, Flames engulfed the entire room, melted all the bars. Hope is still alive, even after you bury it. Determination can be a burden, but to win you have to carry it. A wise man once told me to listen as twice as much as I speak. Two ears, one mouth, wingspan 95 feet. Reaching for the balcony my best friend jumped from. Saddest part about it all was that was only jump one. He landed, broke his legs, crawled back up the stairs, Threw himself a second time, took his very own air. I just wish that I was there, not to save him, just to stare. Let him know someone cared. Let me tell you why that type of love is rare. If a man wants to die, and made his mind up that he will, He stood firm for a reason, to try to save him is to kill. There's a difference between committing suicide and being suicidal. Much bigger than you think, trust me; I used to wanna die too. Standing taller than ever over that 90 foot balcony, Revenge as I looked down on anyone who ever had it out for me. This is for all of those who ever doubted me, All you misdirected youth who misrouted me. And those searching for that anger you're never getting out of me. I do this for the social misfits who never knew how to read. Those babies on the respirators, cause they'll never know how to breathe. I've shared everything I've ever owned but pain, thanks to grams I don't know how to greed. To those without close fam, best friends, prom dates, No Christmas, no gifts, just dead ends and long waits, Have faith in your own future, no matter what you hear it is. That's just the way of the world. It's a sphere but it's a pyramid. © 2015 Dutch Jr.Featured Review
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Added on June 2, 2015Last Updated on June 2, 2015 AuthorDutch Jr.Indianapolis, INAboutI write. You write. Together we shall be the avid audience we dream of. more..Writing
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