There have been a number of occasions in my life when I have regretted not having spoken up about something that I had feelings about. I have always felt somewhat shy and prone to keep my own council but there are times when words were called for and in response to those times I have written the following as a way of reminding myself to speak out when the occasion calls for it.
Outspoken
Who is this
Who with politeness so exaggerated
Entertains with feigned expression
That which he disdains.
Who with discourse polite
Abhorrent feelings maintain.
Whose eyes hide
The lies his mouth describes
Eyes on whose inside
With loathing not apparent
Are inscribed
That exact opposite
Of what his tongue describes
Speak your truth, man
Or what you do speak
Shall encumber you with grief
Shall mock your ways
Disrupt your sleep
With grave disregard
Ignore your dying words
When finally, outcome free
The too-late truth sprouts
From soon rotten flesh
Takes no root,
Bears no fruit
For lack of a believing ear.
So offend who you must
If the offense given is just
The reward will be trust
Truth, witness to itself will bear
Every old cloth has a tear
That well mended
Makes it worthwhile to wear
Those will be few
That long begrudge you
The words your mouth spew
If the stanza is short
And the sharp notes you sing
Create discord
Let the offended party
Move it’s own notes
Up or down the scale
To create harmony again
If your song is well sung
If the deed is well done
Let your chorus repeat
And never repent the singing
And if the truth so offend
That men come to blows
So be it
Rather blood then compromise
Better to tell the truth
And walk alone in undeserved disgrace
Than display the alibi
And walk with false friends apace
Tell the truth
And disregard love? You say
How can that be righteous?
Better, I say, to seal your fate
With those that you hate
Than to your own heart
Be a traitor
Better to tread a straight forward path
And expose your disregard
For conventions
Than wander in diminished rings
Wishing what you might have said
Would have sprouted wings
And carried it’s own message
On your behalf.
Let us learn to despise
The lies we speak in dread
Of what a man may think
Than lie in our beds
With undelivered words
Ringing in our heads.
Better our tongue be a sword
Than a spade
To dig our grave truth a shallow hole.
This mouth
Uncaring womb of words
Better a tomb for lies unsprouted
Than a garden of indecent fruit
Breeder of half happy doubt
Giving rise to one-legged truth
Better barren of offspring.
Never despise
Words spoken wise
Harsh words
To tender hearts can be
Brought on a doves wing