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Rebel without a clue
Backed up against the wall
tears ran dry about an hour ago
bloody knuckles and a broken heart
a genuine loner,middle class upstart
torn up jacket and blood-shot eyes
the pack descends again on this young man's pride
beaten and alone and a rebel soul
his once warm heart has now grown cold
sees each day as a day to fight
against each citizen using all his might
to retaliate against an upper hand
that caused his own break down in his home land
He sees each helping hand as a decieving foe
and each pat on the back as a fatal blow
He stands nearly dead but with his head up high
A confused rebel who dares not ask why
Tripp, I found this piece to be another powerful one. It seems that you have not been very idle in your young life. Later,Joyce/Spanky