Roaming Souls and Broken Hearts: a poem By John McKinley Pride Jr

Lost are we amongst the multitude of roaming souls and broken hearts.

Searching ghosts are we pondering the graveyards of our past glory years

Broken are we searching for someone to mend it like a hermetic peace of machinery

What are we to become but dust and granulated feelings of anther's lust for power.

Like a traumatized victim; left in the middle of the road of a population overload.

Have I tried hard enough?
Have I giving the blood?
Have I giving the sweat?
Have I giving the tears?

No, I have had them scraped from the slate of my very being.

Ripped off my skin like badges of merit that will never leave my mind; it only scars my pride and chains down my spirit.

You've burned it all down; all that I was and what I left behind in hope that you would fallow.

But it was not enough; it was never enough put this on my tombstone and never forget how I never forgot about you and the pain I felt in my overworked hands was callused over with the love I had for you.

By John McKinley Pride Jr


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