A little piece on meekness...

A little piece I wrote a while back on meekness coming from a humanistic angle.


Meek sounds weak.

Who has time to be run over by the movers and shakers,

the play makers, the big fakers.

It’s dog eat dog out there,

And I prefer being the eater, not the eaten.

It’s survival of the fittest,

and only the strong survive.

You don’t win by giving in.

You don’t advance by backing off.

You don’t succeed by laying down.

You have to fight for your rights.

Staying later, rising earlier, working harder.

I’ve made a name for myself,

And I can’t afford to lose face

Letting meekness replace sleekness.

I’m a self made man and

I’ve got a reputation to uphold.

I can’t fold in humility

What would become of me?


I’ve worked too hard to get soft

My hand is on the plow, I can’t let go now

There’s no way, no how that I’m

looking back to a so called “different kind of living”,

One of giving and forgiving,

Instead of getting and forgetting.

In this world the shy die.

The meek miss out.

The mild get run over.

I won’t eat humble pie.

It doesn’t taste good to a person

with an appetite for power.


The invitation to meekness

seems like a setback, a demotion.

I can’t show a crack in the surface,

A chink in the armor.

People are counting on me

To be strong and stable,

Sharp and able.

No tears here.

No fears here.

 I don’t have time for weakness,

I don’t have time for meekness.

This different kind of life will just have to wait.

It’s just not practical.


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