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The Spiral

A complex creature known as man.
spiraling outward from deep inside.
It starts deep, where we allow no one to go
down where our greatest fears can hide.

Will I find some one whom I can love?
Am I good enough at this job I have?
Can I be the person that they are thinking of?
Can I do what I need to, when the time is here?

Then we spiral into love, the love of God.
The love of family, and the ones of long ago.
The burning passion, for the one that is near
and thought of a stranger, we don’t even know.

The spiral widens even further to our facade.
We project a friendliness, or a stern firmness,
a child like innocence, or a commanding nod.
This is what we hope others will see in us.

Here again we began our trip of mortal fear,
as we spiral outwardly to what people perceive.
Can they penetrate this falsehood we display
or do they see what we want them to believe?

Then what from ourselves we try to hide
outwardly spiraling to what we know is truth.
We can feel what people really think inside.
Through our guise, they look with downcast eyes.

Then the spiral slows to a hardening outer shell.
One built to protect us from the hurt and pain.
One that is oblivious to the cruel looks and words,
a shell that we allow ourselves, so we remain sane.

 

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Bob Jackson of Bozeman, Montana writes “I have been around long enough to have salt and pepper hair. I write many times from past experiences. I usually write long line story poems, but I have been known to write other kinds also.” Bob Jackson's next selection is The Veil.