My Dying Rage Poem by Kurt Philip Behm

Forever an outsider,
a key without a door

Locked in your detention,
its barrier secure

Always on the outside,
forever looking in

My actions well intended,
your eyes see only sin

I spend my time in silence,
rejection as a friend

These years I serve in exile,
one word from you could end

The walls keep growing thicker,
blank paper for a cage

My spark now just a flicker
—to light my dying rage

(Villanova Pennsylvania: January,2017)