The Gift of Too Much

“Get lost, I don’t care,” snarled the young wolf disingenuously
The naïve stripling wanted little more than acclaim
With no knowledge of why it continued--
The 
       slow 
              pulsing 
                         of his 
                                  ruby 
                                         vitality 
                                                    into the 
                                                                wounds of others
Which he mistook for his own

One day kind fate bestowed a gift like none else:
A life full to overflowing 
With loving family and meaningful work
There was not one single extra quantum of energy
Work all day, family all evening, sometimes work all night
It all suffered from itself in a lovely, mediocre sort of way

But mostly it clarified
An argument, a stressful day, a worry had a price:
Family time, sleep, energy always the losers
Zero sum, one in, one out, unavoidable
The luxury of care was 
                                  dead.

So when rumors flew pell-mell, as they do 
Like the Wicked Witch’s monkeys
I let them, not pyrrhically hunting them
To their nattering source

And out went the sheep in sheepdogs’ clothing, 
Tissue paper acquaintances by the dozens, 
Card house construct of popularity
and most of all, irrelevant obligations
If you care so little as to be swayed by the winds of rumor
Then that’s how much investment I have in you.
                                                                        Bye.

I’m ironclad when impeccably intact in my integrity
Vulnerable only when I drop below my own equator
To the muck-slinging hyenas that beset us all
For when I am true to me, any harsh judgment of me
Reflects only on the one doing the judging, 
                                                              as I am FREE

This is not to say that I own no bathroom freshener
--To keep the boat afloat, one must diligently look for leaks--
But the double-edged steel of the naked truth 
Is the 
         only defense
And the best nutrient for the garden within
For then and only then am I right with myself and God, 
And free as can be expected 
                                          from the cares of this world

6/9/16
© By Author
For Contest: Rise above it
Sponsor: Becca Teagan
Copyright © | Year Posted 2016

Poem

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Dietrich Avatar
June 10, 2016 at 9:28 PM
A very cool approach to this challenge, Tom. Gosh, I have not even thought about doing this particular contest but you give me inspiration!!
Quigley Avatar
June 14, 2016 at 10:21 AM
Thank you, Andrea!
Ashe Avatar
June 9, 2016 at 10:29 PM
I am very taken with this entire write but the last stanza just locks me in!! The best to you in this contest! :-)
Quigley Avatar
June 10, 2016 at 1:25 PM
Thanks, Walter!
Quigley Avatar
June 10, 2016 at 6:33 AM
Thanks, Walter!
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