Mr Strongarm: a poem from October 2013

 Strong in the arm and weak in the chest

Cold in my feet and hot in temper

Constant in work and wearied in love

Hungry for success, lacking in rest


Knowing there's hope in this, a new day

Despite the dullness of all this grey

Today I'm not going to be lukewarm

This miserable world needs brightening up


I know I don't have to fit a mould 

Which would have me as boring as death

I would rather stride out bright and bold

My enemies can stay in the dark

...

Stopping to listen, pausing to breathe

Wanting to go, not willing to leave

Yearning for beauty, seeing decay

Wanting food, but not what's on the tray


Surrounded by people, none are friends

No new start, for this is now the end

I could just bow, but I'm going to fight

My weapons aren't metal, I won't bite


I will not tow their line, I'll tow His

If He wants me to tow some of them

I'll tense my muscles, drag them along-

All the while, I will sing them a song

...

All of my folks, they would kowtow

They are all fearful, I feel their pain

But even if they call me insane

My course is set, my eyes are not wet


They are going out, I'm coming in

They are all hiding, I'm not fleeing

They've shut their eyes, but I am seeing

That victory is for those who stand


And so I'm going to be marching out

The long and winding, lonely walk home

I might get kidnapped along the way

But I know I will reach the endless day.

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