The Horrid

Secret silent headaches

Defense to distract from all fears

Foolishness catching up

Threatening lights flash shades of yellow




Armored repercussions approaching


You don’t understand

I need to rest a while

My days are ending soon

I’m gasping for forgiveness

Or more like pleading for a different harvest

Anything other than that I’ve planted

Armored repercussions

Have arrived with backup


You sleep well but I suffer

Can’t heal or recover

Absent dad deceased mother

Can’t translate my language filled of questions to another

Banned from extra rest

Gifted unwanted stress.

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