by Gary Rushworth

Created on: June 04, 2009

To Speak of Self

A heart, black and bruised, from a lifetime of false starts and hard stops;

Yet, strong enough to stand back up before the bell.

Eyes that see things, sometimes others miss because they are afraid to look;

Thinking only good things about life; ignoring things that should not be missed.

I am who I am because of where I have been; what I have seen;

What I have done and what has been done to me.

Were I a tattoo, it would be an old man with circles under my eyes,

A furrowed brow and scars hated and loved the same

I am who I am because of where I've been

And those that have cared to stay, hold my hand and know my heart.

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