Email Poem

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Poem


You scorn the work my chisel made,  
Yet you have never held the blade.
You see the flaws, call them mistakes, 
But you have no idea what it takes.

It’s easy to point the finger with empty hand, 
To stand high ashore and sound so grand.
But the sea never hears from those aground,  
Only from those swimming safe and sound.

I won’t explain the things I’ve done.
For you have no idea why it's so fine-spun.
Instead, I'll hand the control over to you,
Hiding the hurt and pain that I'm going through.

Let’s see if you can match your claim.
When no one else will share your blame.
Because flipping the game your way, 
Is the only way you'll beg me to stay.

I won’t confront and fight your claims.
Because I know you enjoy those games,
Where you deride my skills and learning,
With phony debates that are so undiscerning.

Don’t judge my journey; you've not trod that way.
Step aside, let me continue; get out of the way.
If you think it’s so simple; I'll let you try and fail.
Don’t mock the captain, 'til you've faced the gale.

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