Self Destruction? Poem by Vincent Feliciano

I know not whose blood
do i wage war with more
But this pestilence of rage
that grows inside
begs no reason to the fore
Since these hands i call my own
have betrayed the love
that once i wore
It no longer stands to reason
there be hope for anymore
Shame is a comfort
Pain is a friend
I will not see light of day
Or have a hand in gain
While you offer me
your other cheek
For a wretch like me to mend
In what feels like days
I'm free in my fall
to accept my sins forever
As I contemplate their fame
These 30 bought me little
Not enough to pay my wage
But enough to buy my name