Monday, July 11, 2011

shackles of guilt

lie broken behind me--

I've had reality

pounded into me--

the snares of perfection

have been evaded

and no more this life

will I let myself be bound--

of course some damage

has been done and will not be fixed--

as Leonard once put

in his youthful wisdom

"a scar is the Word made flesh"--

and so a reminder remains to me

worn like an emblem of arrogance defeated--

but when you see me hobble toward you

feel no pity and do not mock--

that I hobble at all is fine

and what I go on to is my own reckoning--

my own freedom--

my own road--

with hopefully my own renewal of hope to arrive...where?

Content (c) 2008-2011 Philip Milito.

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