poetry

Inherited Bliss

rich boys and girls
sip on inherited bliss
the new kid takes the back seat
his self-driven palpitations
their morning celebrations
anguish mixed with waves of pity,

red labels were stapled
on archives of ache
but the little soldier
wore these badges with
the momentum of
unbreakable faith,

after all he was the
winner of 100 secret battles
the boys and girls
had yet to face.

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