[mousepoet]: 243.mousey's Poetry.Humility

Humility is striding down the street.
He thinks my breeches
are a size too big for comfort,
and my head makes me top-heavy.

I need some letting down.
I need to fight, and lose.
Anyone for a bit of boxing?
Want to kick me while I’m down?
My ego needs a bruise.

I can bite the hand
that feeds me,
but I can’t turn the other cheek.
I am not timid, nor meek.

Between those two is a truth
that I cannot forget
or reach,
no matter how many miles
I carry a soldier’s pack.