Poetry · Writing

Saint

He told me I earned this title

like the soldier on foreign land.
I never asked for your blessing;

your knighthood. I was fine
under my cloak walking through

crowded hall blending to the wall
like old gum. He saw though.

Something I didn’t realize I was seeking
and he put the compass in my hand,

guided me across these trenches.
He knew I needed a squad, and I,

it’s untested general. I didn’t 
earn this name but I’ll wear the

badge on my chest as a blessed scar. 

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