(From the short-story “Gothic Poetry: A Short Story“)
Standing in the rain
That is my youth;
Never allowed to freely enjoy my truth.
I have dreams too.
Just to judge yourselves
Unable to see you condemn me
For the work that you, yourself, do
It is my wish
That you open your eyes
To what is true
Before the judgment you place upon me
Falls upon you.
For it is my belief
That there exists a much bigger world out there
Where the strong will become weak
And the weak will become new.