Break Away

Where did my young days fly to?

And what did my mother say to me, the day I left?

Her hard voice still haunts my nights, and her foreboding steps ring

In my mind,

Why didn’t I run?

Why?

I bitterly break myself

With my own ill will

Again and again,

I hate myself for who I am.



I had a dream last night,

There lay before me a massive plain,

A battlefield covered with the dry bones of dead enemies,

Yet there was one standing man,

It was me,

The last standing foe, between me,

And freedom.





Cold floor nights

Spent regretting

My life

Every night,



The young can still break away.

I am gone.