The Final Word
I only wanted all to see
the simple things I understand
with due intent for building bridges…
But all it reaped was reprimand.
It wasn’t truth I held so tight
but fear of ever being wrong,
and as I pressed in vigil sway
I faced an opposition’s storm.
I thought the silence held contempt
for what was obvious to me
but silence held a point of view
that I had simply failed to see.
Call it passion, call it pride—
down deep within I feared to give.
I swore to never let it go,
for all should live the way I live.
But if I pause to truly listen,
not to sway but understand,
I may just witness quiet reason
without a clenching fist in hand.
I still believe in speaking out
but strength is not an unsheathed sword.
Its shared compassion spread throughout
and holding back that “final word”.
Copyright © Mark Massey | Year Posted 2025
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