Exiled

This poem was written by my husband, Chebon, who is going through a very dark time in his life and and realizing who he thought was his friends...are not his friends.

Navigating an illusive trail of hope,

A vigillant attempt to regain the path of normalcy,

Within the unimaginable force of currents dubbed life.

Making your summer walk feel like winter in mid-stride.

Yet, in the battle, I choose to move on.

Although the mere word copacetic is another illusion shattered,

I only posess friends, because of my qualifications.

Often my sincerity ignored and displaced,

To the benefit of their own desires.

Why should I hold on with my calloused hands?

Calloused from already holding on too tight.

Surviving in a concrete jungle,

A stranger in a strange land,

Affixed and exhausted from the stress,

As the lips of deception leaves a mark from its kiss.

Reviews

[A. Amos]

Elegantly and neatly crafted, i find your poetry very interesting as you write from within. Keep on writing

[Gobinder Singh Dhindsa]

Great work. Pen on. Do u read mine writings Why and Anguish?

[Marie]

Things are perhaps not as hopeless as your husband believes...
I have a friend who believes she is disliked, when actually she is liked very much. Poor health and depression have altered her perception of reality.

An excellent poem from your husband, but I hope to see something from you pretty soon.

[xxlheart]

your husband is a good writer. you should open an account in his name and put this there. hopefully he will add more pieces. I enjoy his style

[Luvjael]

I loved this poem. He is living in the City when he prefers the Mountains. He is living with people he thought were his friends and learning the true definition of friendship.