The wounds we bear often stem from self-inflicted pain.
I watched others sprint through the corridors of success while I remained a passive bystander.
Excuses about not finding the right platform are clichéd.
I never sought a godfather’s help, unwilling to accept anyone as divine.
But in those perilous corridors, protection requires an army—one I failed to assemble.
Now, I stand atop self-respect, yet at the nadir of success.
Creative Experiments and More 
I’m with you on this. Integrity intact however, stayed long enough in the game to have what I need, and now there’s peace and creativity!
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Wish you more of peace and creativity!
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Thank you! Hands open to catch whatever comes this way…
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🙌
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Been there, still bearing the consequences.
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It takes time to overcome.
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Excellent reminder, Reena, of how we all may be found guilty of self-sabotage and the ensuing “self-flagellation”.
It is at the moment we call ourselves out on it, when we get out of our own way, that we allow opportunity for the success that is all around us, to be ours.
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Thank you so much!
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Bravo 👏🏼
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🙏🙏
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Thanks 🙏
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You’re welcome
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This poem is so brilliant! Self inflicted wounds and trying to pave one’s way without a godfather is difficult indeed!
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Thank you, Aboli!
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You’re welcome ma’am ❤️
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if we’re talking about the wounds that shape our relationship with the world around us (and the people who make it up), I would respectively argue that all wounds are self-inflicted.
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I agree. Thank you, Clark!
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Good observation in the first sentence.
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Thank you, Frank!
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An interesting tale
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Thank you so much!
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