Defeat. A poem.
My last vestige of hope Beaten from me with the crowbar Of fear and distaste in your eyes Each blow taking my breath Bloodying my mind and soul Making me less of a man Until there’s nothing left But anger at the injustice of it all The irony of lie and truth If I’d lied there would be no hurt but my own With the truth there is your pain and judgement which I bear But my conscience will go on I lost the war before it began So raise your club and beat me Again and again and again … Continue reading Defeat. A poem.
