Proud

By Andrew R. Duckworth

The words that hurt to say,
The words that heal to say,
I am proud.

The itching words quick to emerge,
Born from a place of primal urge,
I am proud.

Some say good, this time not.
The sort bringing the spirit rot.
The thing that the devil brought
That the angels in Heaven fought-
Pride seeking to escape the mind
And boast in any manner it finds
With a battered soul on the line
Regardless of how I might opine-
I am proud.

So, I speak this loud,
Though my head be unbowed,
To the one who might hear
To the gathered crowd
For admitting of fault
As I have so vowed
To move against sin
Although I am guilty-
I am proud.