Discipline

Fists,

clenched like butt cheeks,
yet innocent as bloodied knives

they pound,
ground shaking as glasses breaking
creates chaos all around

The aftermath,
apocalyptic and broken,
a ruler, destroyer,
not a word need be spoken

Misunderstood,
did all that he could
in mind
and body
and soul
all he lacked, was self control.

~Andrew
A short poem whilst I work on a longer poem for some time next year 🙂

Advertisements

Tell Me What You Think

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s