.......................Thus Is Why My World Must Be

Hollow hand led shallow world your
grave you dug for me.
To keep in sleep.
When deep within your hole I live,
and breath.
Then die again once more each day, I
am.
Must I see, the tearing yes, give in to
pain,
that bore the best, too him, I am your
grave,
lest I forget your life within my sun, it's
blinded eye.
You must be his lifer and you her
padded cell.
I see denial in us all, each living death
can't sell.
If I see enough and how you made me
feel,
each then and now your past you
make again.
Now I can not touch your robe of black,
it's hem I always felt, such was it once
my friend.
While beating others as a child, you
knew I ran away.
Organizing pain of they whom were
like I, now dead.
Even now in death, you know they
have no name.
That white washed house in Florida
knew but pain.
Arthur G. Dozier School for Boys