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.