Warrior Of The Heart Poem by Andrew Rose

Long black fringe,
shoulders down by his chin,
the world is upon his shoulders,
so he shrinks within,

Suicides never,
a far thought,
as scarred skin will prove,
but for now hell lose himself,
in the tragic songs of others,
sung from their hearts and played from their scars,
anthems for those who have lost who they are...

On the street hes drapped in black,
with stabs of red and silver streaks,
occasional spikes and maybe a chain,
eye shadow and liner procede his fame,

As he walks his footsteps count,
the amount of times,
his names called out,
each day it changes just a bit,
always harder for his teeth to grit,

Prejudged by stereotypes,
lifes never great,
although theyd never think it,
they delivered him his fate,
now hes a sibling hero,
inspiring others to make,

One more warrior of the heart,
left standing at deaths gates