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Palms and Fists
by David John
I stood upon a shining, glowing stage:
A figure in the spotlight, standing tall,
And all around - ending the final page -
Applause poured, like some mighty thundering fall.
Many years passed: I stood again alone,
In that same place where once, my crown I won;
And as I read - the silence - as a stone -
Hostile and angry - till my muse was done;
And then broke forth, toward that self-same work,
Cruel shouts of hatred, blows unto my heart;
Betrayal that did in the shadows lurk,
Barely restrained - but tore my world apart.
Good, trusted friends alone espouse one's lot;
The fickle crowd - a harlot: trust her not!
David John (Feb 03)