Inner Echoes

Do you know how it feels

to be in emotional wheels?

To be under your father's hut,

Yet not own one hat.

Even your own identity as a son 

Is hidden away from the sun.

Fantasies of laying on a bed all night,

never turns out to be right.

To wake up every morning, 

Only to find myself mourning.

Do not worry about how I continue to survive on a rug

nor how I feel when I am being treated like a rag.

I may not have much, but one day I am going to reward you a hart, 

for teaching me how to keep so much grief in my heart.