Reticent Fighter


Invisible flaws provoke a whirlwind

Quivering hands and a voice that trembles

Winning still feels like losing

To a reticent fighter.

 

They try their hardest

They run the farthest

Their tears are rivers

And the mind, a tauntress

 

Prisoners, they are pleading

They bleed internally

Their finest hours snatched

And it’s a pitiful sight

 

To look at them, as they drown

In a sea of inferiority

And with every hint of sympathy

Is a voice slowing fading away

 

As anxiety cuffs onto them

They are tortured right before you

With quaky fingers, as though searching the ground

For what is left of their shredded dignity

 

Their efforts to willingly subdue

Are thrown out the door

And ultimately, the nails on the coffin

Are the gags of the many that fail to construe.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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