The Victim

a Poem by Brendan S

Unquiet,
Undisturbed also.

Always alone.

In her mind.
And his mind too.

They find no others like themselves
Because they were karmically born
To b e victims.

Somehow.

Meant to be
Exchanged,
Second-hand deranged,
Tormented few,
And left abused.

No more time for rust.
We're already through.
The victims form a formal crew.

They rise up,
When they need to.

Victims cry, only on drugs.
They won't cry your normal tears.
We don't feel the way you feel.
Because we were caused by you.

We don't want to be anything.
Like you.
You know who you are
Victimizers ..

Take it down the soul
And recall what I once wrote
A poem without prose
And only rhyme to let you hold
On to what ..
What you have done
To my everlasting soul.

I am a victim,

But you are also.

You did this to yourself,
Then did you did it to another one ..

There was no choice.
You had no one left to choose from.

Though, some day,
I'll find the rest of you.
And put you in a court-room
Surrounded.
We'll be
Surrounded
By circular hate

And everyone will know.