Posted: November 29, 2012 in Poetry

A troubled soul

Shunned from the world

Rejected by society

He returned home an


To the blade he went

Locked in his room

To the mirror he looked

Tears streamed down his face

“Just another day, it will be better tomorrow” he whispered

The blade clenched in his fist

Waiting for the feelings to stop

Drawing up that crimson flood


Her voice flowed through the speakers

“If you fucking touch us again; I will fucking kill you!”


He searched for the song

‘Home Grown’

With her voice he could

Do anything

Be anything

No longer would he pick up the blade

No longer would he be weak

He lifted his chin

Walked with confidence

Stood up for his beliefs

Stopped putting up with the abuse


Her voice

So strong

So powerful

So commanding


Picked him up off the floor

Gave him hope

Gave him strength

Allowed him to believe in himself

She is a part of his soul

She is


  1. Your flow of tension was nicely done.

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