Life of a Certain Kind

07 July 2026

https://poems.culturing.net/2026/07/07/life-of-a-certain-kind/

There is a blinding kind of faith
that I have known all too well,
a faith that refuses to be human,
refuses to admit that our weaknesses
never entirely vanish, not even with age.
This faith is a prison, and I will not
stomach it, not even if it gives life
of a certain kind.

But there is a middle way between certain
and real strength, the latter always knowing
that falling is possible, the former refusing to concede
that we are not perfect. The complex dissolves,
and I walk free.

Where does this leave you and me?
I have known you, in faith, or in vision,
but I have not known the real you.
I am watching a puppet who masquerades
an impossible strength. I do not wish to wound
but to heal. Phony strength has a dark side,
and I prefer life as an interplay of shadows.
I thought you did too.

I am finding my way
through the undergrowth, tangled in canopies
for far too long. There are monsters lurking,
shadows that need to be heard. I will
hear them, and utter their truths. I see more
than some certainties allow.