Why I Share

None needed

I couldn't see in me What others saw first, As the hand that life dealt me Was the absolute worst. Months I'd spent captive In a relative's home, People all around me Yet I still feel alone. My release became poetry,  It's where I escape, From the savage abuse And the emotional rape. I 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 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