A Crippled Sense of Confidence

Grown out of mindfulness or cowardice? Black fruit: a crippled sense of confidence. Torment to see the engine, powerless – Stalled for fuel ne’er bequeathed by providence. O, tragic fate of minion men as I! Who would rather tell of themselves far less – Do we fear the ego grown in the eye? Or simply loathe failure without redress? Ah, pride, so clever are you, foremost sin. Hiding in the guise of humility! I evade the race for fear I can’t win; For could I lose – Twisted profanity! Somehow, it must be learnt. That deadly loss, Can’t come from me! There – The dagger I toss! 28 October 2019