I’ll never live down
Being me
As the man
Whose words
Offer little

But their poor
And honest rejection
Like a son
No parent
Accepts

Whose tragedies
Still
Become laughs
Trying so hard
At sustaining

One last line
Feeling certain
Some meaning
Remains
Left behind,

Mocked by those
Claiming love
But ignored
Too much
For acceptance

Which barely exists
When admitting
Our reality
Harsh
Though expressed

In poetry
Few will engage
So dull
Or shamelessly
Broken

Where agony
Justifies staying
Unemployed
Yet breathlessly
Loud –

Capturing thoughts
More insane
All around
What dreams
Keep repeating,

Seeking peace
Since having been
Martyred
Long before this phrase
Truly dies.

• J. Pigno