The room was dark
The air was still
The man sat there stoic
With his body motionless.
His eyes were squinted
With furrowed brows drawn
His body was tense
Nothing made sense.
His life had blessings
Many bestowed on him
Yet here he sat with anger
A hate already on the brim.
Not a tear was shed,
Not a voice did he make,
He just sat there in contemplation
Considering the course of action to take.
Maybe one day he’s find his happiness
A joy he longed for
Maybe one day his emotions will be joyful
And he’ll find God wants his spirit to soar.
Until that day
He will stay in this place
Unreachable to many
with a stoic face.
