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only in death are we seen for who we truly are
-To all those who died believing they were failures
Madman, fool, fraud, disgrace:
Curse your insolent mind and set alight your life’s work—
Forget about happiness; forget about fame
When money and power is needed to get ahead of the game.
Forget about passion and making things right;
Someone will steal your ideas in the dead of the night.
No one likes change, so don’t dare to be different—
New ideas aren’t needed when old ones have always existed.
Just sit on your hands and bite down on your tongue;
Your words mean nothing—they won’t let you talk for very long:
The sound of your voice will never be valued here,
And, shamefully, you can’t stop letting your eyes show fear.
So just get up and walk away; no one would blame you—
Throw down your vile heart’s creation.
Out of bitter resentment, you constantly rise and fall;
You become more insistent: shoulders back, head held tall—
You don’t let whispers poison the way you think:
After all, the more you rise; the more they sink.
And a hundred years later, after being laughed at for so long,
Your work is exhibited and admired for what it truly is.
Whilst those who doubted you lie forgotten in their lonely graves.
Copyright ©
Amelie Ison
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