Sometimes I’m a man at the edge of the sea
Battling the waves with fists and arms bared
Swinging and lunging, salt-sprayed and heaving
Holding back a handful of sea and a mouthful of spray.
A lifetime of days; an ocean of waves
And tomorrow will bring the incoming tide
And I’ll stagger once more into the oncoming surge
Baring my arms and thanking the Lord
For eyes to see and legs to stand
For it has to be done, and I am a man.
But sometimes between the stinging blasts
Of the buffeting wind; sometimes between
The bellicose blows of the frothy gray sea,
Sometimes I feel the tentacles of doubt
Creeping, scaling the walls of my mind;
Siege towers of uncertainty assaulting
The keep of my will with whispers, eroding
The tower of my resolve with the hissing black oil
Of accusations, recriminations.
And sometimes
I am just afraid.
Sometimes
I just need to hear
Another voice in the wind.
Sometimes
I just need to feel
The strong grasp of another hand.
But it has to be done, and I am a man.
Neal Beightol
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sometimes-439/
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