Bite my tongue;
let it spit no venom.
Toxic doesn’t need my poison,
it is no threat to me.
Turns out a lifetime of exposure
lends one some kind of immunity
to petty things from petty people.
Spread my wings
and they gape at me,
ask me why I do not crawl.
I look at them,
like children,
without scorn, or judgement.
I have fangs,
if I need them.
Instincts sharp,
and armor scales,
but my mind is my greatest weapon,
and my heart is my ally.
Mercy given,
is mercy taken.
I have known the lower roads
and climbed mountains on my belly,
long before I learned to soar.
In the sky,
the clouds around me,
not under the heel,
or in the long grass.
I remember my beginnings,
and the vain effort
of lashing out.
Forgiveness is indeed
a Holy Virtue.
I know this
more than most.
HG – 2021
