13 November 2012

Book. Mark.

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Heads bowed they reached down
Knees hit the ground
as they retrieved round stones.

My crown bowed in preparation of my resolve.
“Look at what we’ve become.
I hear that because of my decisions in life…
that I’ve burned a lot of bridges.”

Prosecuted if I laugh with the critics
after I build a boat and cross the still rivers.
Still cross the oceans.  Still cross the seas.
“The only thing i have seen stopping We is We.”

Many can’t look at me in the eyes because
I’m a mirror of so many of their hopes and their dreams.
“These are not my words.
These are the sentiments shared in our conversations.”

They loved me enough to fight once;
now they hate me enough to throw stones.
I hear I changed a lot. My past is not my now.
My life is a story, my Journey is made up.

“Throw the stone if you never flipped pages
in anticipation on being taken away by a book.

Throw the first stone if every plan you planned.
Panned out right on every first try.

Throw the first stone if you walked perfectly fine
after you stood up for the first time.

Cast the first stone if you stand here without a single flaw.
Cast the stones that You think I threw at you all.

I take the blame for failing hard
I’ll fail some more and get where I’m going. 

I loved those who have failed hard and got up again
because their passion repaired the pain from the fall. 

Cast the first stone if the person looking back at you in the mirror
is better than us all.”