Poem: The Grindstone

A grindstone, meant to sharpen
blades of old
but now, it’s just a saying.

Interesting nonetheless,
how we tell people to burn themselves out
as if that would sharpen anyone or anything.

One does not grind,
a sword already sharp
thus to grind is to identify dullness.

It takes a confidence,
a comfort in oneself,
to admit a shortcoming.

Why are weaknesses
viewed as weak?
Weakness serves to illuminate strength.

To be weak,
is to need to grow,
as we all are and do.

This is my admission
of weakness,
a declaration.

A rallying cry,
a clarification,
to and of the grind.

A plea to learn,
to understand,
to grow.

We are not alone,
whether we like it or not,
why create strife?

Allow yourself not a moment of ignorance,
and if a moment must come,
seek understanding.

The grind is not as we know it,
a grindstone does not render you commendable,
it renders you human.

Sharpen your mind,
as you would a blade,
and more goodness will follow.