pride and poetry

Do not hang your head,
nor let it sink
on your shoulders, hold it high.
For you are strong, you know it all.
“I’m right!” your battle cry.

Sing out your name
Shout it abroad
for all the world to hear.
For it is great, it should resound
on every listener’s ear.

Turn away
from little things,
they’re of no import to you.
Little people deal with them.
You’ve greater deeds to do.

Concern yourself
with lofty thoughts,
with issues of the world.
For great and small will seek you out
for mysteries unfurled.

But when you’re gone,
your body sent
deep below the sod.
Will we look upon your grave
and know you were no god?

For pride is such a fickle friend.
She has no mystery.
Your greatest deeds,
your finest hours
are merely history.


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