A Quite Dangerous Thing

by Ray Colon on November 22, 2009 · 0 comments

Have I made a real difference?
I fail to discern
Will my children prosper
as they grow and they learn?
Can I guide them correctly since I am so flawed?
Did I do right by introducing them to God

I tended the altar back when I was a youth
Was convinced that all I had been told was the truth
I’d confess my child sins in that small wooden booth
Seems quite silly now as I grow long in the tooth

My beliefs are my own and not up for debate
I promote peace and love while rejecting the hate
Guarded thoughts and ideas to the forefront I bring
Introspection can be a quite dangerous thing

I feel I am well as I’m run through my paces
Give nary a thought to those shadowy places
Inappropriate themes in my mind overflow
I visit dark quarters we don’t usually go

I don’t hoodwink myself into feeling unique
It is merely deeper understanding I seek
I examine my life and I offer critique
Doubting, no fearing, that I have bypassed my peak

I find little comfort in the news of the day
And when I look inward I am filled with dismay
My efforts feel much like a baseballers missed swing
Introspection can be a quite dangerous thing

While not immune to a fit of trepidation
I yearn for moments of untainted elation
Watch my child being born; give a ring to be wed
It’s moments like those that let us know we’re not dead

Much of what transpires results from what we do
Yet oftentimes we fail to reconcile the two
Mistakes repeated are dismissed as déjà vu
It’s to ourselves that we most often are untrue

So what is my problem over what do I fret
It isn’t just boredom, a more serious threat
Did I really believe I could unfeel the sting?
Introspection can be a quite dangerous thing

This melancholy moment will soon fade away
But this comprehension with me is bound to stay
People have power, if we admit it or not
To change our perception of what it is we’ve got

We make lifelong decisions of which there are few
Each one contributes to the karma we accrue
We choose those to be near and see us through and through
They leave marks on our soul, those hardest to undo

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