It happened many years ago and I remember well
A jagged flying piece of glass, a story sad to tell
As hastily I plucked it out, my life force flowing free,
I knew that wound would ever be a living part of me.
For many years that tender spot would shrink from human touch
So I’d protect it at all costs it didn’t take that much
To warn away those kindly folk who wanted to be near
For getting hurt again was such an ever present fear.
But slowly over many years would hurtful memories go
And only sunken whitened flesh scar tissue there would show
To take me back to long ago when wound was fresh in mind,
But now the intervening years had left those thoughts behind.
And then one day a devilish scheme came knocking at life’s door
But while it didn’t touch my flesh it hurt me even more,
For friends support or let you down, the latter’s what I found,
And once again a painful wound required to be bound.
But only when my helpful friends referred the scar to me,
They pointed out that over time the hurt had ceased to be.
At first I angrily dismissed those friends whose sage advice,
Had brought me no real comfort in attempting to be nice
But while in quiet reflection then I saw their view was right,
For my old wound had lost its hurt, and given up the fight
To take control of my self worth and spoil my lifework plan
I’d take this current wound in hand and choose to be a man.
“© Copyright Ian Grice 2012 all rights reserved”