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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)