I am not Bent
A poem
By Jim Gandolf
©️09292025
The Unbowed Line
They measure all the edges,
They check for signs of give,
They scan the soul's deep ridges,
The way they think we should live.
The world applies its pressure,
A steady, subtle hand,
To shape you to its pleasure,
To make you understand
That straight is out of fashion,
And bend is the true art,
To curb the core's deep passion,
And soften up the heart.
They see the stress, the straining,
They wait for the bowed knee,
They think there's no sustaining
A stubborn liberty.
But the grain within is granite,
The spine, a single pole,
A law across the planet,
An uncorrupted whole.
So ask your question, wonder,
With a skeptical, quick glance,
"Are you bent now, down and out?"
I meet it with a fierce stance:
"I am not. The line holds true.
I am not bent. What about you?"
Jim Gandolf
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