The Swordsmen

Some people would call it abandonment

others self-destruction

I call it my life.

Moving out of my mother's house at a mere 16,

I set out to find my own path; my own voice.

My past is shrouded with disappointment but my future is sprinkled with hope for something better.

We all strive to make it through the day without a tear running down our faces

but only the weak can achieve such a feat.

You see, tears are what we all lack.

Empathy—The understanding it takes to 'know thy neighbor' and 'be in their shoes'

I believe that first we must sympathize with our neighbor, and wear our own shoes before we can even begin to understand.

You see tears are nothing more than invisible battle scars

given to us by experienced swordsmen who we call

parents, teachers, brothers, preachers, friends,

and the most painful of all: ourselves.

So take the invisible ink that floods down your face,

collect those tears to drown the swordsmen who want

to see you fail.

If you do fail then ride and build a boat on top of those tears until they sink that ship and build another and another

because this is where I come from,

and this is where I'm going.

On top of those tears,

on that boat,

to fight the swordsmen.