>>156503
In the dusky light of a coastal hour,
A half-man wanders, seeking power,
Brannie, with shadows sewn in his seams,
Chasing his wild, fractured dreams.
Amidst the whispers of the ocean's breath,
He dances on the edge of life and death,
With every wave that crashes and roars,
He dives deeper into his inner wars.
First whispers of change, like soft morning dew,
A budding secret, a coming of new,
Innocence tangled in the chaos of youth,
First pussy hairs mark the passage of truth.
Invisible threads weave through his mind,
As he navigates heartbreak, desperate and blind,
With each fleeting moment, he struggles to find,
A glimpse of the joy he once left behind.
Crack clouds his vision, a haze in the night,
Yet flickers of hope break through the blight,
Drawing him close to what once felt alive,
While the shadows of addiction relentlessly thrive.
But in this poem, not all is despair,
For the beauty of change dances in the air,
In the tangled mess of a life torn apart,
There still lies the ember, the flicker of heart.
So here’s to Brannie, a soul in the fray,
Finding his way, come what may,
In the tender embrace of the past's gentle stares,
He learns to cherish those first pussy hairs.