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    Third Culture Poetry: An Anthology of Poems From A Psychological Prison
    Third Culture Poetry: An Anthology of Poems From A Psychological Prison
    Third Culture Poetry: An Anthology of Poems From A Psychological Prison
    Ebook30 pages14 minutes

    Third Culture Poetry: An Anthology of Poems From A Psychological Prison

    By Sam Pyrell

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    About this ebook

    He saw the world through a psychological window. 

    A third culture kid, a boy, struggling to form his identity. He was tossed into a new world while remaining bound to the old. He was neither here not there.

    An Empath, tormented by an endless wave of agonising emotions, struggling to express himself in the face of family dogma and a culture which abhors the smallest sign of vulnerability.

    A boy in the body of a man, grappling to understand life and love.

    In a world where nobody would listen, and those who tried, simply could not find a way to hear him; poetry was his only outlet.

    Autistic, lyrical and raw. This is his story.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherSam Pyrell
    Release dateJun 11, 2018
    ISBN9781386303411
    Third Culture Poetry: An Anthology of Poems From A Psychological Prison

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      Book preview

      Third Culture Poetry - Sam Pyrell

      Cut my heart open

      If you look at my face,

      You get a hint of the disgrace,

      But you can't be too sure,

      You put it down to a bit of stress,

      He's not right, he's a bit less,

      I bow my head,

      Avert my eyes,

      The door is shut,

      But,

      I seem nice enough,

      On the exterior I seem kind of tough,

      I'm an enigma,

      I'm hiding something and everyone knows it,

      I'm the guy who could succeed but normally just blows it,

      I'm avoiding something,

      I won't let you look deep,

      There's a child inside me,

      But I keep him drugged up, and asleep,

      I hide him behind a wall of intellect,

      Better than letting that immature, needy little shit roam free,

      Better than letting loose the real me,

      Still, at times, when I can no longer tolerate the cries,

      I cut my heart open,

      Just so I can feel anything,

      Then, I feel

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