Pride
By grumpy3445
What a harsh master is pride It fills you, pushes you then breaks you, leaving you lonely my pride, my arrogance, lead me wounding those around me like a raven, picking at the flesh on a battlefield I ride it like a tidal wave miles above everyone then it crests and the curl tosses me under choking me, helpless to escape I am left on the beach spitting the sand of my pain from between my teeth and wondering, quietly how I dared to ride so high so confidently, when now I am as a child but then, I dash, back into the water willing to ride once moreI grew up in Los Angeles, so I like to use beach metaphores. I understand the waves. Enjoy, John. Written December 28th, 2001 © on Feb 25 2002 08:38 AM PST 18 • 0 • 1
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"What a harsh master is pride..."