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.

 

Pride

 

I remember being told that pride

Was the worst of all sin

Since pride cannot ever be

Overcome or

Redeemed

 

But, in our modernity,

We have all become animals of

Pride

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.

Weakness

categorised by starving

Demons we cannot control

 

Pride too tall

casting a shadow beneath which we

Cower

Afraid to show our soft bellies

Even to our closest allies

 

My own pride manifests in a fierce

Independence.

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

 

MMJ

 

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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