Prodigal, Part 1: Rebel - Poem by James Grengs
He sits alone.
Abandoned by all,
Hated by all.
Tears, hot fire,
Trace shimmering lines down his cheeks.
The echo of violent screaming plays in his head.
His parents could never understand him.
It's only another tattoo:
Katie asked him to.
The anger of his father's yelling
Drowns out the fear of rejection,
Drawing all focus to itself.
He is fully angry,
The pain on his arm from the needle
Is forgotten, in his hot anger.
His parent's voices echo in his head:
'You're only sixteen!
What were you thinking? '
Now, he is only thinking
Of the cash he has,
Hidden in his closet.
He finds the pile of money
Hidden there also,
A small bag of a fine powder
A handgun, his father's, stolen.
Sounding painfully sweet,
Order his life:
His new life,
He is running,
Chased by his anger,
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