About the Poem

My struggle to know myself prompted this reflection wherein my weakest qualities immerge.

In Those Rare Moments I See Truth

by Belisle

What spirited heart drives me thus?
Frenzied madness . . . I must refrain!
Spoiled little child, make such a fuss,
How the ego of youth is vain!

Fight though I may, never will I win:
The battle lost before the start;
Self- centeredness, my greatest sin,
Corrupts my mind, the sacred heart.

Why the need to so glorify
The self? My stay would be of use;
And so, live less a life of lie,
If not others would I abuse.

Well, it is such that people cry,
For the world is not a nice place,
Much less good my heart, yet I try,
Compassion show and sins erase.

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