A strange poem

Swallow the pain deep down in your chest,

Push all of that sorrow into the fatty pockets of your heart

Where it spreads the poison into your veins.

Crying out is futile, don’t you know that?

When the mule will carry the load, what will you be doing?

You will be the animal too, you of little strength.

They will laugh at you and cringe at your efforts

Have you not learned your place in this world?

 

Woe to you, I respond, listen to my words once and forever;

 

Hark, you of little faith and persistence

Hear me when I say that you shall not give in

Do you not know your own power? Do you have no reason?

Take off the dirty glasses that shadow your face

And see the fruits that the earth has offered you

Taste their sweetness and reflect on your time here.

For what man does not look forward to the meat

That the prison guard offers once a month?

 

The road will be entangled with a great sadness and apathy,

Yes even your own gut will cry out “give me release!”

Let go of the notion of better and of goodness and joy

Put your feet on the ground and walk the path

Use what meager means are yours to open your heart,

So that you may set a place at the table for your brothers

Let the flesh be flayed, and turn the other cheek

Know that for a time, your name will hold value

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