Stubborn, pigheaded, maybe even a fool.
These are claims made by you.
Not wrong but I am what I am.
If that’s a problem, I can do nothing.
Standing at the roadside as the rain pours.
Each strike I feel the sting from my soars.
Twisted by the weight of time.
Should’ve made me most unkind.
And while I faltered and likely failed.
I stand refusing to become that which sickens me.
Stubborn, pigheaded, stupid, a fool.
They are words used right through.
Not wrong, but this is who I am.
If that’s an issue, then not my problem.
Left alone with nothing but a night sky.
Stars fill the void of those who never said goodbye.
And sure I feel quite removed.
Could’ve changed off this route.
But if I had this would not be true.
Instead I would’ve been bowing down to all of you.
Stubborn, pigheaded, idiotic, not cruel.
This is reality marching two by two.
True and yet I wear the names proud.
For its better than being a vicious coward.
Simon A Jackson - Writer 