An anger, a fire so fierce it Melts him bit by bit, And the taste of grime and grit Fills his mouth and his wit. A sadness, a cavern so deep it Cuts him into a shape unfit For the texture of his soul; he's lit Just barely by hope and lost merit. A dream, gone with lost youth; it Once filled the world with Rays of hope and success to knit. Now all he's got left is a rock to hit.
Reason for writing:
Wrote this one long ago.
In case you're lost, it's supposed to portray a man in a chain gang.
Birth sign: Capricorn
You need to log in to edit this poem if it is yours.
View more poems by Jack deCongo.