The Great Observers

Sometimes you have to take the observers
With a pinch of Sodium.

As their self-indulgent eloquence
licks the end of every word and their egos
Nurture the thoughts that precede them.

They can only take one step
In which direction
To say their own opinions.

They snort, they scoff and push
Until their sore insecurities
Have become a bully of their own making.

They’ve learnt to stare with
The steam of Smaug
Drifting from their nostrils.

Of course,
Their talk causes concern,
But not as much as our silence
Causes them.

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The Insecure Man

The insecure man is a fledgling,
He fights,
Scraps
And scrounges for respect.

His muscles may be big,
His arms – strong
But you can see
In his heart and his eyes:
He is empty,
But for the wild chase of a desperate man.

He sees what he wants in the hearts of others
And believes confrontation is key.
A primitive shove
Lands him in the fray.

He may have won the fight,
But the fear is still in him:
Like a buried seed
Growing into his personality.

Everything he tries shoves him
Further away from his transient goal:
Plunging him deeper
Into cold insecurity.