Self-Making

He spent many years with his head in his hands
How could he be so stupid, make such evil demands?

It’s unnerving how deserving this fool really was
Behind bars he belonged, and so decided it was

Shame was his monster, his unquestioned master
Lived hell; Caused hell; Considered getting there faster

But then he found a book; don’t assume its akin
A spark; An embark on a journey within

What if he could change? A perspective so insane
It took several long months to pick up that book again

He needed this suffering for those he had wronged
It served them somehow, or so he sang his song

But fresh were ideas; What they promised: Profound
Change and serenity and shame, but unbound

In his cell was a mirror; the first time he’d looked in
Sunken, tired, lifeless, and thin

For the first time, he thought, not in shame, but reflection
Not just for others he hurt, but this harder inward direction

Feeling great pain, he mistook little had shifted
But it was the beginning; A lifetime of shame to be lifted

“I see clearly”, he said, “But how can I let go and halt?”
The wind carried the reply, “It isn’t your fault”

A product of circumstances beyond one’s control
Yet responsibility to take; Blame to release, not to dole

What if he weren’t evil, but a person under way
What if instead of self-pity, those ammends, did he say

A world deprived of him, in his limitless potential
Is a world so less rich, and one so unessential

It was work, it was pain, just to get to this point
Life is work; it means pain; but that isn’t the point

Pain is not suffering, unless we so make it
Serenity is the promise unobtainable when faken

He unlocked something within, something real and self-searching
A commitment to growth and belief in his person