Of course I let life box me in.
I knew I had fighter’s blood runnin’ through my veins
Of course it was poisoned when I started poppin’ Tylenol.
The boulders were too heavy to carry on my shoulders. I felt trapped behind bars in jail
Of course the bail was too steep a price.
My cold, poetic stanzas were graffiti on the cell’s walls
Of course I was goin’ insane in captivity.
The expectations had rendered my creativity useless. I was stunned by a sharp left jab
Of course I regained my composure.
A swift right hook proceeded to paralyze my physique
Of course I remained out for the count.
The thought of quittin’ looked oh, so sexy. I stared in the mirror at my busted façade
Of course I entertained the idea of conceding life.
I woke in the middle of the night to cold sweats
Of course the blindfold finally came off.
The stars in my eyes were so revealing. © 2013 by Charles Banks, Jr.
Writing as Black Angel