I Am Who I Aspire To Be
I am who I aspire to be; I was born free.
Only God knows the truth it seems; He gardens dreams.
So don’t judge me too harshly friend, cracks might still mend!
See what Kind see behind my fear, still, hold me, dear.
It is true that my image fares better in scrimmage
If my friends don’t abuse me, the coach might still use me,
Some will blink at the danger when I act like stranger,
But real me is genetic, a blooming aesthetic.
I feel pain when I regress and joy when I progress
But no tour in the traces my stumble erases.
Though there’s human remaining, I’m still horse in training,
And a soldier who’s bleeding, whose death no one’s heeding.
I can hear singing critics speak, “Argument’s weak,
Aspirations as good as dead so’s your friend Fred!”(1)
But my heart tells me they’re so wrong; False logic’s song!
Aspirations are ALL you see, man’s certainty!
Though our clothes do not make the man, honesty can,
And though many may try for fame, what's in a name?
It is God’s wrath that I’d not see, don’t you agree?
His Grace frees me from feeling shame, Love without blame!
Brian Johnston
March 10, 2017
Copyright © Brian Johnston | Year Posted 2017
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