The Damage Done Poem by grace mariner

Are all men the same?
Created equally yes, but completely different.
Each a unique mix of their collective experiences.
The good and the bad coexist, but free will,
that is what makes the real difference.
The damage exists to remind us that we live outside
the safety of ourselves.
It is frightening and liberating, all in the same moment.
We choose who we will be...kind of spirit and generous of heart,
or ego driven, trampling all within our path.
The abused does not always become the abuser.
At some point, a choice is made.
Why then does it always seem that to the villain
go the greatest spoils?
I am a fool and as a fool I stumble blindly forth,
assuming that people, that mankind, is good.
And in that ludicrous belief there dwells the absurd notion
that kindness of spirit and generosity of heart will prevail.
I cannot change, nor do I have the desire to.
I would rather be the fool and believe than to become rank and bitter.
Oh I have had many reasons to be so but I will not succumb to it.
So I lay what's left of my heart bare, placing it on the table
with all of the other dusty relics.
It may be disregarded or even worse, feared for the simple
complexity of it.
And the wicked one, who left you stranded, smiles with her
witchy grin because she knows you will never let her go,
as my relics, feared and possibly loathed, crumble in the dust.
Oh the power a woman possesses!
Mother, lover, wife...how we can shape your destiny for those few moments you linger here.
Are all women the same?
Perhaps.
It is no wonder you fear us, I fear us as well.