Night Talks

I once sat on a bed,

With a gun to my head,

I still think of pulling that trigger

Listening as my own adoptive

Mother called me that dumb nigger.

It was all in the my brain,

As I thought of the failures

I still wish I’d taken my life, why?

I still have a level of pain,

That falls like blood rain.

If only I could turn my back,

On life, make it all right

Become a ghost in the night,

Watching myself die on the train track.

People think the stuff I write is to simply get stuff off my chest. A wise man once told me that when someone writes it’s a message, a message a person can’t say, a message filled with pain is the message of a lost soul.

By Isaac Gathings 2017

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