Harsh, to myself…
Crazy, this bludgeoning of mind,
this all pervading cloud of blame
that astounds me in its ensuing,
yet I know I’m no model of propriety,
fallen to sin in sobriety,
but I stand a flagellant,
swallowing whole all the pain.
Forgiveness so easy a task,
but the self, sometimes too much to ask,
and I writhe with discomfort,
regret like a surging wave of accusation,
a cutting blade of compensation
for my shame,
and my blood spilled for the release.
In humility I relent,
try to forgive past events,
to somehow just accept who I am,
and that I will never be perfect,
mistakes are my learning,
and instead know the potential that I hold,
when love absolves the doubts in my soul.
Crazy, the pain I myself inflict,
to the novice I am, so strict,
that expects so much more than I am able,
what I can bring to the table,
yet the potential is there to behold,
and in forgiveness I shall rise,
to polish smooth my jagged side,
and to even out this stride in my path of choice.
Tony DeLorger © 2017
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