No Longer the Victim: a poem By John McKinley Pride Jr
What shale I do when it all falls apart and I loose what I have won; dose my back turn yellow and I just walk away?
A hanging head is the sure sign of defeat and I have never seen the floor so close up before.
The lines in the carpet resemble some kind of thought that creeps in to my mind like a fog over grassy noels.
Creeping my way towards this real tragic love affair, what shale I do tuck my tail and hold on to you?
I am not the aggressive one nor am I the motivator of destruction and if I seem like the cowered in this situation please do not let your guard down for you will never see me coming.
You will wish you would have never underestimated me, this elution tricks many and brings many to there knees.
Oh, like an angle of light I appear to some but too many who know me I am the son of no one you have known in your life time.
Fall backwards with all your trust into my arms of loathing despair and see the angle of death face to face for the first time.
By John M. Pride Jr.