Still Learning
I killed my hope within me
And found it quite stillborn.
I let my anger sway me
And met the perfect storm.
My vessel looks unaltered,
My future seems assured,
But destiny has faltered.
Intent is unsecured.
My every motion runs
Away into the night.
My agitation shuns?
The still small voice of right.
No weapon comes so ready
And willing to the hand
Than that which will unsteady
The ground on which I stand.
Christopher M. Swan 2008
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