Which am I

Once so cautious
to speak my mind,
and acknowledge that more
existed than fear
behind these placid spheres
of liquid knowledge.
Past points of confusion,
round dimly lit corners
of despair –
I seek the faint glow
of illumination
through phosphorescent images
of truth and understanding.
Pretending an ignorance –
false and impure
so as to protect
a fragile ego
from being trampled
by those more powerful
more forceful and strong,
but ignorant nonetheless
or their callous branding
of silence of stupidity.
Now, to speak vehemently
in more persuasive tomes
about subjects familiar
and search for comprehension
among vacant minds
peering in bleak dismay
as they seek to absorb
my convoluted logic –
am I the trampler
or the tramplee?
Have I, in my eloquence,
become more stupid
than I was before . . .
as I attempt to spread
purity and wisdom
among fellow blind souls?

 

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