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
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