The critic will
analyse your words
to tell you
what they mean.
What gives him the right?
he hasn’t seen
what you have seen.
He wasn’t there
when your father died,
he couldn’t tell you
for how long you cried
He doesn’t know
the dark secrets in your soul
or what it would take
to make you whole.
How can he describe
the hurt you feel inside,
does he know
what it’s like
not to have any pride?
When you leave
your heart in something
you have wrote,
pay no attention
to the criticism,
just pray it may
get stuck in their throat.
And if they dare to speak my message and claim it as their own soul because of pride, I will come to repossess their golden atom box. That was the gift my father gave to me. I am happy to give freely and share! That’s my story of my place in the world. But to unlock the secrets of the past requires more energy and focused diligence than I’m familiar with handling on my own without a hand to hold, remind my heart to stick to the straight and narrow. Divergence is play, but my soul remembers the great life work which it pledged it would take.
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Wonderful piece
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Thank you.
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