The gods see my tears.
They feel my pangs.
They know I have come a long way.
The road so far is full of terrible memories.
Sometimes when I think about myself, I cry.
I cry tears no one can understand but me.
People out there do not understand,
No they don’t.
Why I need to conquer the world.
They call me a smart youth.
With no idea of my heavy past.
My tears, they are the signs of my terrible memories.
A drop of my tears is a remembrance of months of hardship.
Success is not an option,
O no, it’s not. Not to me.
It’s rather a must, my must.

Paterne Freeman Shadowriter,As We Walk Through Life, Poetry Volume

Photo Credit: DaHomie