The Truth
By Kabriel Moorehead
Smoke in the air paints a hazy canvas
On which a journey will be told
Like a player rising from the dugout
Ready for the final at bat
And dreaming of,
No knowing, that he must swing for the fences
The lack of fear in his eyes proves that after years of preparation
He is finally ready
But As with all men his age there are battle wounds
That tell of days where pure determination
Persevered over the pains of bad luck and wrong decisions
And As this figure gracefully moves through the shrouding haze
The only thing clear to the naked eye is how much he has grown
How the unrefined talents of the child
Were meticulously molded into the resolute character of a man
A figure draped in clouds
Yet one so tangible, one that I know so well
One that I've become
Copyright 2011| Kabriel Moorehead
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