Kurt Philip Behm

My Dying Rage

Forever an outsider,
  a key without a door
 
Locked in your detention,
  its barrier secure
 
Always on the outside,
  forever looking in
 
My actions well intended,
  your eyes see only sin
 
I spend my time in silence,
  rejection now a friend
 
These years I serve in exile,
  one word from you could end
 
The walls now growing thicker,
  blank paper for a cage
 
My spark now just a flicker,
—to light my dying rage

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: January, 2017)