Epiphany Poem by Mike Snow

My thoughts howling round my head,
like the storm raging outside the window.
Will I end like the tree,
ripped and smashed from earthly anchor?
Or shall I find peace,
at your tranquil shore?
So much has been wasted,
in my life’s turbulent race.
I never thought of the hurt,
to me it was only fun.
Now to sit and ponder,
how did this occur?
How did I sink this far,
that I must prostitute myself.
To sell my principles,
to survive once more.
Friends are few, but true,
and offer what they can.
But how can I stand again,
and not die this once more?
Then look in the mirror dark,
at the reflection of my soul.
How bitter is this sight,
of that which I made so bold.
I shall recover my place,
where I do stand proud.
And have no fear,
of my blackness being found.
For promise do I not,
to friend or woman or God.
But only unto myself,
to no more live with this rot.

(© M.Snow (2014))