I guess I’m big and ugly-
At least, so I’ve been told.
I was never much to look at-
Even less as I grow old.
But a book is not the cover,
Which may be stained and worn;
Nor even in the pages-
Which may be frayed and torn.
The value is the content-
The words and works of art.
And the value of a person
Are the things within his heart.
If a man can see the beauty
In a rushing mountain stream-
Or the touch of the Almighty-
In the sunrise’ golden gleam.
Or look into the careworn-
Features of a maid-
Whose heart has oft been broken-
And confidence betrayed;
And look beneath the heartache,
The sorrow and the grief:
And see the tender innocent-
Who is hidden underneath.
Or look upon the street kids-
Their swagger and their pride-
To mask the insecurities-
They really feel inside.
And see the little boy,
Who cries himself to sleep-
And have the tender feelings-
Himself, to go and weep.
To lean against the cell doors-
And cast his glance inside…
Upon a hopeless prisoner,
A man condemned to die.
And own him as a brother,
A confidant and friend,
And be content, his life and time-
With such a man to spend.
If these things be your nature-
And years and miles they span-
Be sure that when your journey ends-
At least you’ll die a man.
Poetry
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You have a real way with words! I really enjoyed this
This is really good 🙂
True to the title your last stanza sums up in very simple and beatiful way the crux of a true man:
“If these things be your nature-
And years and miles they span-
Be sure that when your journey ends-
At least you’ll die a man.”
A mature and deep rooted pondering on life. I had heard “A true soldier may be beaten to death, but not defeated on disciplene and convictions he upholds” You have expressed it very nicely. I like the way you write it in simple words within the reach of a common man not exposed high sounding words. Hats off to you “Gunslinger”. No exagiration meant, It is my heart felt comment ………. kranand
2+
You are all too kind. Thank you for reading.