Poetry

Tussle

Do it, do it,
That’s all I hear,
No matter the rivers of pain that flow through my heart,
The agony that whips me everyday,
And the hardship that comes with it.

That is the tide, that is the tide
I am forced to move with the tide even though I don’t enjoy it, but what can I say, wherever the wind blows, thats were I go.

Smiles, I hear the orchestic sound of the violin, its rhythm so attracting that I am
forced to move with it.
I took it and then strung it with its steel strings, but alas it’s not it.
It’s not the sound that enchanted me.

This makes me feel,
Battered and bruised,
Frightened and frustrated,
Confused and condemned,
Devastated and disappointed,
Infuriated and ignored,
Rejected and ridiculed.
But I am forced to play it by the tide, what can I do?

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