The Fighter & The Coward

A poem about perceptions.

Years, months, days,
Hours, minutes and seconds,
Seemingly countless…
Seemingly infinite…
Yet they slip away,
Slip right through our fingers,
Through the cracks and crevices,
Embellished by life.
At times cracking and denting,
Those lackluster armors,
We keep fixing and molding,
Till it melds with us,
Body, mind and soul,
Akin to a second skin.
Each crack…memorized
Each moment savored,
Every word, kind and unkind
Every action, warranted or
unwarranted for,
In that moment,
Committed to memory.
People say,
Words don’t matter,
Actions once acted on,
Hold no levity or gravity,
Nor consequences.
And that in the end,
All that matters,
Is the journey…
It’s said with such nonchalance,
Like the world we live in,
Thrives on sunshine and rainbows.
Nobody mentions,
The prowling wolves,
The loose lips that,
Thrive on sinking ships…
Blowing in like raging storms,
Up-ending people’s lives,
Shattering dreams and hearts.
Passing judgments,
Drawing conclusion,
And sealing fates,
Before giving a chance,
To listen, to hear,
To feel…the weight of,
Human sentiment and words.
People forget, the names,
The labels and titles,
They grace you with.
They call you a loser,
If you decide to ignore taunts
and insults,
And deal with vicious words
passively.
They call you spineless,
If you don’t react instantaneously,
Or hurl abuses, or trade blows,
With a ferocity that equals,
The viciousness of their words.
They call you a coward,
For avoiding confrontations,
And for staying silent,
Despite every effort they take
and make,
To break you…
To push you past your threshold.
What they fail to realize,
Is that every silent gesture,
Every non confrontational action,
Every kind word,
Is an act of defiance,
Is an act of rebellion,
Is a fight against all instincts,
To pounce, react and rip
them apart.
Word for word, action for action.
Every moment filled with silence,
Is not resignation,
It’s determination, it’s motivation,
And it definitely is something,
The prowlers, growlers, howlers
And noisemakers along with those
Slithery, serpentine, sly situation makers,
Can’t, won’t and never will stand
A chance against.
For your biggest mistake,
Is to think silence is a weakness.
Never underestimate the power,
Of something so intangible,
And unimaginable,
Because you will only drown in it.
Against the impenetrable power
of silence,
You, who deem yourselves worthy
mortals,
Are nothing but mere dry leaves,
Dancing to a tune you have no control
over.
Every action, thought, dream and impulse
Has a consequence.
What you mistook for my cowardice,
What you misread as my weakness,
Was my act of generosity and kindness
towards you.
And when the day comes,
That the gloves come off,
It won’t be you demoralizers,
Or you naysayers,
Hell bent on destroying,
Those you deem weak,
Who walk out of that ring,
With your heads held high.