There once stood a man, ill at ease, and succumbing to fade,
Facing an identify war akin to a splitting grenade.
Witnessing in horror each mind numbing shrapnel,
As it hit him in past tense and peeled him thoughtless.
Since he chose the road but didn’t chose to fight,
He was left with no time to brace or to hide,
Feeling agitated at destiny’s sorrow site,
Losing his soul and watching the days go by.
Took a while for him to be resuscitated,
By the time his life’s purpose had gravitated,
And had taken a toll on his curiosity,
He looked at life with a certain animosity.
What was left of him, prayed to his saints,
Consisting of wicked monsters and hollowed men,
He now forever thought in silence,
Gone were the days of violence.
Middle of the Road 
There was an idea, called the Poeticgems Initiative. The idea was to bring together a group of remarkable people, see if they could become something more. See if they could work together when we needed them to to fight the battles we never could.
I think you are already a part of it, wanted to know how I could join it! Please 🙂
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