Thorns Of Surrender Poem by Lizzie Lum

As I humbly kneel, yielding before the altar of refinement
I am bruised but not yet beaten
Conscientious to expand

As you get to work on those rusty spikes of juvenile psychic legacy
I writhe as the sharp thorns are gouged from my side
Leaving home like a sword is drawn from its scabbard

How astounding it is that these arrows have nestled so deep inside
Embedding themselves as my back was turned
And in the confusion of my punch-drunk staggering
I welcomed them as part of my own artillery

Only in offering this grave shrapnel for you to expertly dislodge
Can I truly release these weighty splinters
Which are so burdensome to my rising

© 2013 Lizzie Lumsden All Rights Reserved