I seldom poetry anymore
I used to poetry a lot
What happened?
Why is my muse so distant?
This timidness in my psyche
I do not like
I hide
afraid to feel
until lately
I know, I know
But do not want to admit
The damage that bastard wrought upon
my soul
Lately I've felt anger
Lately I've felt hatred
toward
the bastard
Then wondered if
maybe it's toward myself
for allowing the bastard influence
even after seven years
Fuck you bastard
I spit on the ground you walk
I curse your supposed righteous causes
I pray my soul can be freed
from this entrapment
and the muse can again
give voice
