A Poem For Your Thoughts

To Grow

21 years, and still I can recall

The lasting insult uttered, that precipitated fall

Creeping from the corner, bent like crooked shade

malignant form encroaching, a jagged digging spade

from gnashing lowly crack, to encompassing abyss

it dug and dug and dug, a line across my wrist

dozens of repetitions, etched upon my soul

this wretched little creature, digging its horrid hole

Many methods mentioned, so many more decreed

Yet still its form persists, a blackened rotting weed

Roots tunnel closer, gripping at my life

This time I'll kill the bastard, let me sharpen up the knife

Slicing forth the streak, pulsing disgusting blood

A fitting end I think, for a man worth less than mud

Yet I stare upon it, and am stopped by faintest thought

Is this all that I am, is this all that I've got?

Will I gently fade away, or shall I take a breath

To rage against the pain, to bellow against death

To find a reason forward, to subdue the blackened mass

where mind had turned against, blessed love shall come to pass

For it is surely written, that even darkness doesn't last

So why must I remain, in the pit of hopeless past?

Surrender lay forgotten, for I trudge on in my prime

The seeds of hope are planted, and all I need is time.