Pride
In our deepest despair,
When misfortune like an albatross
Swoops down on us,
We let them burn,
All we love most...
When sore and unsure,
Separated from false strength
And all which gave false comfort,
We build brick walls...
Rather than bridges.
Yet we learn not
And hate that inborn impulse
To seek solace when hurt,
So we spurn true friends...
And hate our vulnerability.
Copyright © Edward Babatunde | Year Posted 2006
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