Giants Poem by Scott Runciman

Jack of all trades, master of none.
Delusions of grandeur, life like a bum.
I can write!
Prove it? !
Put pen to paper,
move it.

Is this humility?
And my saving grace?
She sings my praises, and I soar
no longer downtrodden.
Now my swollen ego worries me.

Courage, mans greatest benefactor,
Be it lack of inhibition.
Plain stupidity.
Or stumbling into a comfortable unknown.
Courage.


Scraps and morsles of paper, and black books.
Will anyone ever know or hear,
that this me is here.

They should know, but I can't tell.
If I could shout, I'd yell!
My admiration goes out to all of you. Brave. Souls.
It is no choice, that you voice
All you have done.
I live in your shadows.
No taller than me, just in the right light and
Brave.
Empowered, heroes tackle causes
and break barriers.
I struggle with myself.
What hope have I?
Is ignorance bliss?
And who's even ignorant? !
Me? Them?
Brave souls.

Walk on the shoulder of giants.
I'd rather grow taller.
Or walk with those alongside me.
Be inspired by those,
Smaller, Longer, Wider,
Wired. Still.
Until, I look down with the scope of a giant and scale of an ant.