The Beast

I want to be honest to you so here’s a poem.

I used to be a loving kind man.

I was fine until they held my entire family down at gun point and gave the majority of my family the drug option to heal their pain.

I’m one of the few that I know left so, “Yes,” I am a victim.

I used to be a good soldier until I saw the towers fall.

I was a loving man until every relationship I entered into turned into a mind fight, complete hell. I lived a peaceful church life then I was left for dead by the woman that I married. This Father’s Day I’ll be thinking about the son that wasn’t mine and the father who blamed my mother for everything.

I have to leave the past behind me.

I’ll be letting go of the people who would rather enjoy seeing me suffer.

The people who would pay to see me in a coffin as they split the copper pennies that I have left.

Looking in the mirror I still see a part of me that’s still in there somewhere.

No one wants to be around me anymore because I snap at liberals and I’m afraid to fail.

Walking a tight rope, I’ve turned into a beast.

Me and a group of homeless veterans have been spit on, abused, taken advantage of and left for dead in an abandoned building owned by foreigners who too have nothing left.

Washed up, old men wearing black clothes we wait patiently for our next gig because even if we complain, no one cares.

Preparing for my next brawl praying to the heavens to control my anger they feed me through a cage then they too run from what I’ve become.

The Beast