Poetry

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MAN
What description can be placed for a man?
Is he courageous, strong, or brash & wields
a fool’s hand?

Is he mighty or reserved? Does victory lead
him, or doth he be conquered and wallow in
defeat.

Could he be without reproach? Is there life
within his eyes, without hint of seething loathe.

Life can be vain, filled with rot and no gain.
Man is the same, without purpose he’s made lame.

Pride can be dark with daggers stuck deep. The
pain it afflicts in man rises, and destruction does
it reap.

Stoic resolve might build a backbone, but a calm
composer is an unexpected, quite and welcome friend;
it’s often forgotten by the world’s popularized tone.

It’s hard to fully comprehend what depths, that lie
in being a man. The will it takes to lead a family. The
drive to pursue life all too rapidly.

Man holds great fear with the life of a vagrant. The
thought raptures failure that’s opposite of fulgent

To become a man could be an endless quest that
some won’t finish, they will forever wander and dissipate.

Few these days ever complete with high marks. The
majority cling to a life full of stark. Their soul’s mind is
clouded and might forever be dark.

There is another man that we’re to be fashioned unto.
Jesus is beyond, the best example for us to adhere to.

(((JMF)))

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