Every Grain of Sand

 

                                                     Every Grain of Sand

 

 

          I’m accused of being grandiose,

Accused of being preachy

And I am to certain degrees;

A qualification I add from

     Years and years of

     Heartache and tears,

And I guess if life had been kinder,

Warm to accepting the

Positives rather than negatives;

I could have been a teacher,

Helping people not to venture

Where I have been; self-doubt,

Cowardice – self-loathing – coldness

And ignorance,

But in being fair,

It was a conditioning forced

Upon me as a child with little choice;

The choice -

     To try success with happiness –

And many men turn to become a soldier

When the doubt of who you are eats

Voraciously upon a secret fragile heart;

     My world, has been spited to the point

I myself have exact that spite myself.

 

          I have been unkind in many ways

For the anger that sits inside –

And it’s hard,

So frustrating and debilitating

Suffering handicaps of the mind,

The Spirit,

The Soul of a once placid fragile child,

For it seems my every actualisation

To attempt compassion is blocked

While rocking to and fro freely is

The bitterness of years spent –

Ridiculed and haunted,

Taunted – bullied

Like the child that cried – beaten

In the playground,

Beaten-up for nothing.

 

          Now I’m grandiose,

Now I’m preaching with the pride

They tried to thrash,

But if any reaches a like minded

Victim of abuse,

Then there you’ll find the empathy,

There you’ll find true courage,

     And if I could really teach,

     Really preach just one

Distinctive feature for you to place

Within your heart,

It would be the act of forgiveness

For every soured Man and God

Who’ve tried their very utmost

To quicken only death.

 

          Always,

Check upon yourself,

Never take All for granted,

Centre your very being

On your human that is living,

Never let the charms of death

Cheat you from who you are

Or frighten you to submission,

Embrace not the cruelty

But only;

          The beauty of your life.

 

Michael J Waite 24th December 2012.

 

 

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Comments

jane mccourt

Fri 30th Dec 2011 18:03

Sound.And well read. Thanks for sharing!

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