Ahhh, again this is one of those ‘no edits allowed’ pieces. It causes such pain for me as a writer (and a perfectionist) but screw it! I wrote without rereading and this is my blog sooo, where better to dump it onto the internet? Enjoy.




I remember being told that pride

Was the worst of all sin

Since pride cannot ever be

Overcome or



But, in our modernity,

We have all become animals of


A damaging pride which demands

Kindle for the flames of its solidarity


Bloodied and alone beneath

The weight of our sorrows

We profess our capability.

Rather be crushed than

Accept the extended hand


Is then weakness a sin?

It has become so.


categorised by starving

Demons we cannot control


Pride too tall

casting a shadow beneath which we


Afraid to show our soft bellies

Even to our closest allies


My own pride manifests in a fierce


Though I adore the weight of a head on my shoulder

Pride holds my head high

My own pain too feeble to fight


My back is straight

My façade resolute

But beneath,

Pride coils around my neck

And chokes the life from me




This is an original poem written by Miriam Methuen-Jones.


Don’t forget you can follow me on twitter and instagram if you’re missing me between blog posts.

© Miriam Methuen-Jones and miriammj.com, 2018. Unauthorised use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Miriam Methuen-Jones and miriammj.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content. The author should be notified of any use of excerpts or original content.

Posted by:MJ

20, studying at UEA in Norwich

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