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THE KING - THE PREY.
" I am fine" were the words of a man who lived down my memory lane.
His voice would bellow through the ruffling air, and I could recall the day.
He would always say "All is well" and would volunteer to assist.
And whenever he is asked, " Do you need some help?"
He'd say " No, it's no hard feat".
Many a time he cried alone and let a heavy sigh,
but always wore a wide smile when he left the comfort house.
Never did he admit that he was going through a lot, and I was opportune to know because I lived next door.
In the day, he is a king, the man, a real deal.
Indoors he is the prey, the predator's meal.
I felt he needed someone, a friend to talk to.
I wish he didn't keep them or pretend like he used to.
Because he died a few months later, we all mourned and prayed.
What he never knew was that no one truly cared about the amount of pressure that was laid.
He died on the measure of pressure he pressed on himself to please the people who never cared.
© Sparrow
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