Poetry: A Life Without Shine
He had taken countless blows.
Yet his life is without glow,
and everything remain slow...
only to find himself astray.
His life is colored in gray;
helpless, he could only pray.
a will that'll not easily break apart.
Yet he still failed to have a good start;
only becoming an unsightly spurt.
Can he still remain fine
even though he is captured by a vine?
It's so unfair, he cannot help but whine...