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I, Refugee - Acrostic Monorhyme Poem

Poetry is the heart of literature. A story is fine, a poem reaches the soul quickly eliciting raw emotion, and a Poem that is story Rules!

Words Have Limitations

Words communicate.

Often true intentions cannot escape

Rehearsed stories on a page that do not equate

Definitively to what in the heart and mind takes place.

Searching for connection readers learn to extrapolate.

Honing the skills of shaping a story can take a lifetime to relate

Adequately to the audience an author's meaning in any true state

Verse and pros must do more than tell a story but must create

Emotional links with readers whose imagination then take shape.

Looking into the pathos of my writer's heart as of late

It is a welcomed challenge to reveal my tell to satiate

Mental burnings of the tale of my sojourn in life. Anticipate

IIndelible impression of what life means to me intimate

Tastes of the struggle of bearing off the inner recess of inordinate

Amounts of experiences. By firsthand explaining how people wait

Teaming with unexpressed tales can be refugees inside. A debate

I experienced though surrounded by loving support in the wake

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Of loss and self-doubt. It is easy to unknowingly graduate

Nose first into the lie that life is not ours to own. In order to navigate

Safely to being heroes of our life--good with bad, we integrate.

Create in Us at Times

Casting up old tales of hurt and happiness bring perspective.

Rarely, I suppose, writers create works on lives not lived.

Entertainment media exposes Western society to the narrative

Actively experienced by all story, movie, song, what you will.

Tentatively we lend our lives to view through eyes of creative

Effect that spawn narratives reimagined to express writing skills.

Imagination is not limited to the things we create ex-nill.

New tales from old connect us as familiarity upon our souls distill.

Understanding that words form a part of what makes stories relative

Sets the stage to use society's canvas as the adjective explicative.

A shared experience is the foundation upon artistic directives

To touch the lives of others. Some get it some have no idea.

Tasked are the artists to make the tale relatable in splendid

Inclusive newness that builds a reader's latent detective skill.

Mentally and emotionally drawing him or her in, hearts that swill

Enough to let the reader give over his or her gentile

Soul to the experience of the creator or recreator's inner expositive.


Prisoners of the Mind

Perhaps the most disturbing thing to consider is how to share.

Responsibility for how the tale is told will determine how aware

Intelligently we are. Goals not reached caused me to stare,

Searching my soul to reveal how mental entrapment came to rear

Odiously out citizenry in my life story as the hero there.

No person aims to become victim in a story of life for him or her.

Essentially a series of events building a false narrative transpire

Retching away at the mind until nothing seems left save failure.

Solemn impassioned anguish felt I a prisoner in emotional amber.

Odd to show no emotion yet show a full array of clear

Forensic evidence of heartache to the thoughtful investigator.

Trapped in my mind, I felt a need to depend on the Savior

Helping me survive the prison my shattered dreams created there.

Every prayer and plea to God fell to silent returns, me, in despair.

Memories of my goals called from the past. In my heart, I swear

Inspiration to find a way for me to rise from brimstone fire

Nawing from the inside out at my soul to reach for the higher

Destiny I seek. Freedom from a mental prison. Not a refugee there.


I, Refugee

Inescapable are the scars we carry on our souls of life.

Respectfully, inescapable are joys that walk with us through strife.

Effulgent waves of happiness & azure walls of wo compete despite

Fierce attempts to grasp at either the dark or light.

Universally we emotionally being similar is no roll of dice.

God intends we experience the range of emotion and try

Earnestly to understand each other's joy and pain to supply

Every person empathy to become as He is, God-like.


Will be the Hero

Weapons formed will not prevail.

Institutions oppressing us will fail.

Love and joy to what Avail?

Life eternal! This life in comparison pales.

Blessed falling off the scales

Encumbering my vision to life all hail!

Toward success like comets trail

Heavenly is the front I am the tail.

Earth is my school; I will succeed I am compelled.

Having my story before the world sail

Enjoining catharsis as the words I tell

Riveting pathos to the scale

Of meeting the minds of all above micro-moments in hell


Of my Life's Story

Opportunity to improve despite an environment of requited doom

Fleeced in the love of God to escape the temporary life of gloom.

Manmade hope in this world that cankers the soul too soon

Yonder sits a light of hope representing a changing cocoon.

Lovingly this cocoon encapsulates each moment in life's dew

Inoculating the soul of each refugee who perseveres through

Faithfully enduring the dark while consuming the light too.

Existential reasoning we surpass as truth reveals who

Serendipitous to us now the five senses give no true clue

Stellar children of light who lived life before any of us knew

Tragedy and death and hurt, being a celestial brew.

Optimism in life as I read the scriptures we accrue

Royal blessing from God to be heroes true blue!

You can be the hero of your life story like me, adieu.

Words have limitations--create in us sometimes prisoners of the mind. I, Refugee, will be the hero of my life's story.

© 2018 Rodric Anthony


Rodric Anthony (author) from Surprise, Arizona on November 04, 2018:

I appreciate your wisdom and comment on this poem. I am still a little concerned it was too long.

manatita44 from london on November 04, 2018:

We are all prisoners of fate. It dances on our foreheads. Good to see that you have a faith and seem happy with same. Some philosophical and everyday aspects come through in your poetry. Nice acrostic poem.

We are all subjected to the whimsical nature of the mind. Being aware of its traps and confusion is cool, as this will ultimately help us to discriminate. Peace, my Brother.

Miebakagh Fiberesima from Port Harcourt, Rivers State, NIGERIA. on October 31, 2018:

Hello, Rodric, since the poem s divide into sections, Ilike the format. Thank you

Rodric Anthony (author) from Surprise, Arizona on October 31, 2018:

Thanks for reading and commenting Miebakagh. I realize afterward that my poem is long! I tried to write an article in poem form, like an epic poem, but not epic per se.

Miebakagh Fiberesima from Port Harcourt, Rivers State, NIGERIA. on October 30, 2018:

Hey, Rodric, "will be the hero" specifically fascinated me. Thanks for sharing.

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