Draw slowly that most bitter of blades
that cuts away the gentle bonds of love,
Oh stay the tempest of your burning rage
soften that iron hand in its velvet glove.
Fear to take that slow endless walk
deep into the silent gathering gloom,
Where the shadows of memories stalk
and midnight poisons the Sun at noon.
Flee the bold lie that sparks such hot fire
leaping to life so deeply in your breast,
Hold back bitter hate and your dreadful ire
let the baying hounds go find their rest.
Remember that not all who do so speak
will hold your honor in any high esteem,
No they are base liars softly they creep
silently they squirm wriggle and scheme.
Happiest only in the miseries they make
counting out their success in your pain,
Glorying at your blind all-consuming hate
making it all too easy to win their game.
Instead place your trust in one you know
that loves without any base talk of cost,
Reach for them now before they do go
hold them so tight before they are lost.
© Tony Hicks
Excerpt from the book “Imperfect Paths”
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Foreword . . .
How many people can say they have not walked on rough terrain to get to where they are today? Most of us have been bruised and beaten to find out who we really are within; to find joy in this life we have been given. We are flawed beings with imperfect paths, and those turbulent journeys can either make us or break us.
It is easy to blame our past wrongs, the people who have tarnished our trust, and the bad bets the world throws at us. But we still hold the power to make a choice to become better than the humans who hurt us; to be the voice of change by learning from the experiences which have attempted to break us. Along the many roads traveled, the decisions we make will determine who we are to become.
Take a moment to walk in another’s shoes. The poets here have opened their Pandora’s Box, not to release the personal demons that taunt or once to keep them confined, but to share how to sever the weights one is shackled to.
Donna J. Sanders, Author
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