Poem : Growing Horns

I look up in the mirror
I’m the half devil, half-angel,
One side horn, the other side, a halo over me.
One wants to stay rebel,
The other one wants to stay out of hell.

Home wants me to be angelic,
But the world outside cut off my wings.
It seems my halo is broken, I am growing the horns,
because it’s better to stay a rebel,
rather than get thrown on the ground.

I kept the broken pieces of halo with me,
Deep down I have got some good in me.
Someone comes to heal me,
with those pieces I strike three.