A Character Of It's Own
By Sylvan Lightbourne
A character of it’s own, earned to be earned,
earned to be learned, a bitter burden turned.
Catches me you called it, catches me you won’t,
avoid all the friendship, possibly a curse,
break bones softly, possibly a curse,
father me badly, came out emberse.
The further shall i sturdy, proves all to be a lurk,
fully of a foley.
Cross me again, difficultly you would show,
catching pride rumoured early.
I assume you are the greater afterdater,
rethink about days you were weak and incompetent
show non above.
Courage or no pride, or no tear through a stride,
what was meant was, during this abide of luck,
you took what was catapulted as a feeting roughed
and make it into something that was worth foolish without;
outlivers, outtrust and troused.
Too much talk of my character revealed,
hear this only prevention, that i shall not bleed,
the troubles that you looking for, would be held back and conceived.
I begin to undertake punishment and years of sorrow,
if tomorrow isn’t enough to borrow any troubles,
a character of it’s own, would be worthed to be worth.