Saturday, March 03, 2007

[Poem] Just This

It begins with sobbing humility
Displayed in infantile weakness,
Until a shroud of expectation descends.
The struggle begins early,
Always a battle without a foe,
Sporadic facade versus discrete interior.
Scars are never worn with pride,
They burrow into delicate skin,
Bursting the surface when probed.
Moments of exception infiltrate,
Form decorations on a ragged uniform
Worn under duress for a lifetime.
Victories swell momentarily,
Exposing breaks in boundaries,
Steady progression is enabled.
It is a valiant attempt,
Any audience would applaud,
Should anyone care enough to watch.
As the uniform begins to fade,
And directions become choices,
There is a glimpse of hope.
But some things will never be easy,
Even with the end in sight,
Success appears terrifyingly impossible.
Clinging to fragile roots,
Old memories against a worn mind,
Beaten to submission for a last time.
There will be no finale to remember,
Only a definite and unavoidable


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