devon da poet
Battered like eroded rocks, a childhood filled with shaded spots.
A father's not, a mother's wrath, crookedness and gashes.
A shattered heart, a mind so blotted, kicked away and isolated.
Left sitting in a corner all alone just like a stone,
Bitter half-sister, scary aunties, pink and purple panties.
Uncles with sharpened tools, some are merely fools.
There was no way out, in fact, a brother's sinister heart fitted just intact.
Puppies are like magic, so adorable with their eyes closed.
You should see them just after birth, their fur are as rose.
Toes so soft and gentle, roar so gently, in their own tones.
Reaching for that nipple they wrestle. The squishing on each other's backs, thus make a ripple.
Survival for the fittest, a dog eat dog world.
Milk tastes the sweetest when you're a pup but they'll kill for the sweetness when it stops.
Ruff-ruff-ruggle, as they struggle for dominion.
Then came trouble in the heart of competition.
One is always bombarded with the burdens of life.
Toil, tears and sweat just to survive.
Being push away from the group over and over again,
The brotherly love has lost its potency.
A dark age filled with fear, sleepless nights and rage.
All due to siblings' persistent pursuits for affluence.
Alone in the cold strolls Forgotten.
To arrive at his goals he must forget the hurts, pains and bitterness of the past that have always been a torment.
As he lament in his silence he writes his story, but only to be misinterpreted; a tale that never wags.
A dream will eventually become a miracle and a manifestation.
A predestined life and a heart full of faith will over weigh the heavy obstacles.
Rocky steep mountains will look like mere pebbles near a sea shore, as he strolls his way to the top.
His adversaries will one day kneel to his admiration and renounce his allegations.
For they was nothing but mere lies.
He'll one day grow into a mighty hero.
His teeth will be the sharpest and his jaw the strongest.
His legs will be planted on the ground like trees, and he'll be as swift as bees.
In his glory, his royalty will be shone across the land as that of a king.
The darkness of his childhood will be erased,
And he will be ablaze with the arrays of sunshine,
And when he comes back he'll bark like a Doberman.
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(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
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Edgar Allan Poe
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