The struggle

He screams and kicks

But nothing’s changed;

He slams his fists against the bricks,

He scratches them and tries to fix

His life, yet it remains deranged.

The walls are big and hard to break,

Thus his attempts are all in vain.

He wants to sleep, he wants so wake,

To silence the continuous ache

That falls upon him like the rain.

His mind is weak, his will is frail,

And they cannot be modified;

He starts to weep, he starts to wail,

He struggles but to no avail

For his soul has long since died.


This poem is about: 
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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