Brittle Surface

Then there’s the other playground, hidden
from the cast of eyes, from the field of view.
Given shape of whispers, a forbidden
terrain that no survey could map as true.
Due regard, a somewhat wise precaution.
As with a grain of truth in rumour’s mill,
this place has no scale of good proportion.
All things can be ground to a common swill:
’til there’s nothing left of confidence,
just the remnants of dignity, respect,
and honour; nothing but shallow pretence,
a bastion of moral poverty … wrecked.
. Play, ground away, under spiteful attack,
. Brittle is its surface; ready to crack

© Tim Grace, 22 August 2012


To the reader: As a school principal, I watched with horror the spiteful subterranean attack of girls on each others’ friendships. Damage to dignity inflicts a cruel wound; one that festers long after its initiation. The attacks were often highly orchestrated and finely targeted at a hapless victim. The remedy was to some extent exposure but humiliation of the perpetrator was fuel to the fire. Reconciliation was the broker’s joy!

To the poet: This sonnet was constructed to highlight the fragility of a playground. Designed with a sharp tongue in mind. An outpouring of emotion, prone to pretence and posturing. A string of words nuanced with nastiness. If you’re listening carefully there’s a reference to self-pity; an obfuscation, that distracts attention from cause and effect. The mere suggestion of ill-will is an affront worthy of indignation. Words just words… I don’t think so.


 

Brittle Surface

Brittle Surface
Picture Source:
http://youtu.be/YYfxfudoE_k

 

2 thoughts on “Brittle Surface

  1. You can definitely see your expertise within the article yoou write.

    The world hopes for even more passionate writers such as you who aren’t afraid to say how they believe.
    Always follow your heart.

    Like

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