He learned of it through word and deed
at school, where battered 'til he'd bleed
by bullies outside in the yard
he'd practise daily how to plead.
It was not that they hit him hard,
for violence he could disregard,
what hurt him most was victimhood -
it was the shame that deeply scarred.
He cried for mercy through his blood
and presently he understood,
despite the things his teachers said,
that mercy was not always good.
The vanquished, when his blood is shed,
can bend the knee and bow his head;
the victor might forego the blow
and demonstrate largesse instead,
for his is mercy to bestow
upon his subject there below.
Observe the triumph in his eyes -
will he relent or more blood flow?
Dispensing mercy gratifies -
ask wanton boys who play with flies -
conversely it humiliates,
teaching victims to despise.
He once felt dread but now he hates,
and even as the pain abates
he tenders his autonomy
and deep resentment germinates.
He knows that to be truly free
from despots with their fine mercy,
every man must stand or fall
creating his own destiny.
No power can hold him in its thrall,
no threat or torture can appall.
Each choice he makes, each act of will,
is his alone once and for all.
Each choice he makes, each act of will
is his alone, at least until
at last his godless soul is still,
at last his godless soul is still.
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Comments: 33
Even poetry cannot gloss the damage done by bullies.
Fortunately, all those events happened in childhood when life was not so violent as it is now, and like many childhood events, it came and went. But far too often some of us experience so much more pain and humiliation, and make the choices that speed us to a place no one should go.
I talk too much. Outstanding poem, I hope you will join my groups:
Warrior Poets
Darkside Poets
Congratulations on your win.
Congratulations Mike, it's indeed the best read !!!
Points well take adn well written. Thanks.
John
Ginne – After, Despite, Because (A memoir about loving and dying.)