So, if this is temporary, then where do I go from here?
As I watch the snow start to fall, only means it’s the end of another year.
I sit here and think to myself that the next few years aren’t going to be easy.
Now that I got a chance to think about how out of control I was, only makes me queasy.
Its not that I am not ready to change; I’m definitely not scared.
Its just that the life I’ve lived, I sometimes feel like its made my head permanently impaired.
What if I don’t meet the standards? What if I fail?
If I don’t change, the truth of it is, they will always have a bed waiting for me in jail.
I mean, I know right from wrong, it’s only obvious.
Just don’t look at me different when I tell you what my favorite hobby was.
No, its not writing these poems. It wasn’t even legal.
All these tattoos, how am I supposed to blend in with normal people?
Where will I go? Who will I see? What will I say?
I can’t keep living this. There has got to be another way.
People keep telling me, over and over. Why don’t I listen?
I fail to realize the way I grew up has my head wired different.
This has got me at a constant battle. I won’t give in.
Me and God are the only ones that know truly what side is going to win.
Just for the record, I’m going to give it my all.
These are just thoughts on my head as I watch another snowfall.
By Patrick Sheltraw
See all poetry for Patrick Sheltraw #597035