He stands tall to show the world he will not fall, breaks his neck to check that he is seen consumed in foolish pride he neglects to see what he so clearly will never be, he puts the costume on and plays the roll but behind the camera he is a jkings fool and he has lost control, split between a foolish pride everyone sees what he so strongly trys to hid, hurt by someone he is dieing inside to scared to screem to proud to yell he has seen his death and welcomes hell destroyed  by foolish pride cannot hide the hidden excape the wind blows the doors break he runs and run but its to late death has got him and that is all that i will say


This poem is dedicated to kay she let me step out ofmy comfort zone with poems by telling a stort

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Charlotte B. Williams
quasi 6 anni

I agree that pride is very bad, it goes before destruction, and a haughty spirit goes before a fall. you worded it very well.

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