Syllabic Expression's

I refuse to write of a time
when faltered winds
broke my spirit,
scuffed, brown shoes
were all that I owned;

that was fine by me.

Sacrificing memories that were
nothing more than fiction,
fables on a shelf for strangers
to read in dismay.

I wanted to rhyme my blues
one line at a time,
nothing pretty about the truth
when it ends with questions of
why?

I live in a world of freestyle
where ebb and flow are created
with every breath I take,
words finally mean something.

They are no longer designed
to impress,
just syllables;

the true heart and soul of me....