The Knowledge Of My Frailty Poem by Matthew Lumley

More brutal men, stronger than I,
Look on me with mocking eyes,
Eyes that challenge me to stand,
And prove to them that I’m a man.

I loathe the weeds that grow in me,
The knowledge of my frailty,
That wrap themselves around my lungs,
Crawl up my throat and hold my tongue.

And as I turn, the poisonous words
Die in my mouth and go unheard,
And as they wither in their waste,
They leave behind a bitter taste.

This silence left by things unsaid,
Has followed me into my bed,
Speaks to me in a quiet hiss,
And taunts me for my cowardice.