(February/'47 / Connecticut, USA)

To Trip And Stumble

It matters not to me,
Where you believe I come from.
Or where my next steps are placed,
On a path I take...
Through a host of judgements passed,
To trip and stumble to the ground...
With only my pride and integrity to grasp.

I am the first one to admit,
I have no wish to be perfect.
Or rush to conceal mistakes I have made.
My faith is much too strong,
Than anyone's critique focused on my wrongs.
As I am observed standing tall once again,
After experiencing scraped knees to expose I can grin.

by Lawrence S. Pertillar

Comments (1)

another poem with full of inspiration! You are appreciated for the straight forward writing!