Tuesday, 23 October 2012


When I see a challenge,
I bow to it,
reverencing my teacher.
I once would kick and scream
like a three year old and say,
"I don't want to and
you can't make me.
But indeed those tests
did create me,
crafted the unique
person that you see.
And honestly,
we all know it,
nothing else would,
nothing else could,
have the resolve,
to wait like Bufferin
and dissolve,
the resistance with patience.
Allowing the grating
of nerves into silence,
quivering like crickets
in the long warm night.
I gave up the fight,
but not allowing retreat,
never admitting defeat,
I become who I am.

1 comment:

  1. I just read your poem both backwards and forwards, Ron. It is enjoyable - and I can relate to it - both ways.

    Thank you!