Kick Against The Tide
Somebody held up a looking glass.
Your eyes bulged like an amphibian,
And I knew I would drown in your world.
Your structure, your stature : magnified.
I , unblinking, petrified. Land locked.
Then the sharp, acrid smell of burning.
Like the glass was by my flesh too long.
Raised hands. Raised voices. Unwise choices.
Then silence. Heads down, eyes averted,
From the looking glass, to the water.
I dived, or fell. I don't remember.
And waited for the burning to quell.
But always the smell. It was my soul
That burned. With drink and introversion,
I fuelled the pyre, and readied myself.
Now a refracted image. A face.
A hand out-stretched, and a voice inside
Urging me to kick against the tide.
The drugged up, dumbed down victim culture
That destroys the man, and drowns the child.
