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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