Bridges, Dams and Walls

Poem on the value of acceptance

Shorn of all pretense,
she has nowhere to hide;
Her past is her present
She’s wholly dark inside.

She talks without listening,
of course she would know best;
Not being able to meet her standards,
no longer a measure, nor the ultimate test.

She’s lonely, selfish, needy,
denial’s a system she uses to cope;
Ranting, raving, long since fallen away,
to think change is possible; there is no hope.

She builds bridges, dams, walls,
while manipulating and forcing her hand;
The fact she’s ultimately overbearing,
is more than she’s prepared to understand.

Her heart is in the right place,
could she simply relax, learn to let go;
New information is the great staff of life,
the foundation to prosper, the basis to grow.

Furaha.
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