A million stones against his skin. A million times he chose to win. The battles, hardships self-imposed. Reactions to his moral code.

Drowning in a sea of gray, convictions broken – romance fades. Pragmacy and practical, replace the ideological.

What’s easy now is not what’s right. If it’s good, it’s worth a fight. The struggle as you risk it all. Solid as the others fall.

Pleading, screaming – “just accept.” Apathy helps them forget. But not the one who walks a path. He chose it then, will make it last.

Uncompromised, alert, alive. He asks no pardon in their eyes.

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1 Response to Identity

  1. Brian Faulkner says:

    The flow of this poem is such a pleasure to read aloud. I ‘ve just read it several times in succession, and had to stop myself. That’s the best compliment I can give.

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