How Mighty The Man

How mighty is the man,
Who holds what he knows,
Without an itch,
with an urge to scratch.

He stands tall above all,
Shoulders touching the clouds,
While others bend at the knees,
Tears weighing heavy as they are kept inside,
Swelling the head,
Drowning the heart.

How mighty the man,
Who, knowing and holding,
Sees other windows to view the world through,
Stands tall,
surrounded by sharpened knives
Remaining untouched, un-scarred
Without an itch
Nor an urge to scratch
How mighty the man.

Explore posts in the same categories: Poetry

6 Comments on “How Mighty The Man”

  1. Tokoni O. Uti Says:

    Great flow. How mighty a poem

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