Why I Share

The poem says it all

I couldn't see in me
What others saw first,
As the hand that life had dealt me
Was the absolute worst.

 

Months I'd spent captive
In a relative's home,
People all around me
Yet I'd still feel alone.

 

My release became poetry,
It's where I'd escape,
From the savage abuse
And the emotional rape.

 

I'd write about things
That those around me don't know;
But how can one be happy,
When it's not something they show?

 

How do I keep smiling
When I'm emotionally scarred?
How do I stay happy,
When my smiles are all charred?

 

How do I live
With all of this pain,
I've been asked many times;
It's really hard to refrain.

 

From exploding with tears
When my story I'd say,
As 'men do not cry'
Or so I heard someone say.

 

My pen spills its blood
Onto the page
And my soul feels relief
From the long penned up rage.

 

'My soul cried out'
For the 'Little boy lost'
'My reality' I changed
Despite the weight of the cost.

 

I live with my pain
And I've emerged from my shell;
I share my stories for those
Trying to escape their own hell.

 

By: Nathaniel A. Booker, Sr.
'Genius under Construction'

© Nathaniel Booker