My Father, Please Hear Me True

I am not sure what happiness rides with wealth,

I am not aware of what glory arrives with pride,

I have not been privileged to know the righteous path of the follower.

I am the dot between the sentence,

I feel the heavy weight of of the transition.

And when I tell you all is well, I lie.

I lie, because they suffer,

The ones who brought me here.

I lie, because she weeps,

The mother I hold so dear.

I scream because I am broken

My body caves in from the weight.

I scream so that he hears me,

“My father, I swear it is not too late!”

He told me once when I was younger,

To choose a path to walk,

Each breath we draw has meaning,

Life is a slowly dissolving rock.

-N.B.

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