Cursed with the gift of life

Dead birds singing out of tune, a child is born a month after June. Cursed with the gift of life, the child grew with the desire to die.

Craving for a poison to quench his thirst, he is a bomb waiting to burst. The clock ticks as a reminder that life to him will never be kinder.

Stars are painted in the blood-red sky, and he was tainted with their lies. He’s a fool for befriending the wise. now look at him, strangled with their ties.

Life played him like a fiddle, and they left him stuck in the middle. He braved the storm alone, and witnessed the moon break another dawn.

- Jay L. Delos Reyes