MJD, poem: Tom

Everyone knows a Tom; Thomas by a mothers right, a true bred Dublin boy – by heart alone, his life and spirit have turned to Stone.

A rough upbringing has set the cast, a life written, well in Advance. For little input he did not have, his cards dealt, outside his craft.

He wakes with rage at air so pure, for everything he has, was tainted before. From day to day he manages life, but struggle and hardship is right by his side. For Tom is due some hope in the clouds; and will claim life back, when bones meet Ground.

Published by MJDWRITES

Thinker, fantasiser, reader, writer.

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