With the clouts hurled behind
your sanguine impositions
I have awaken completely
from the dream that you people
injected into the antics of
my ponderous comatose, but
those knuckles can only bleed
and break against the steadfast
concrete wall of my quiescence
accepting your jabbing filth
like how I had always been
before your star crossed
my misanthropic detachment.

Norman Santos

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/awaken-9/