My Selfish Poem

As the world goes round and round,
I move, not quietly.
With sound.
Being like a rolling stone,
I travel mostly alone.
So when you came back...
my heart leapt;
as if it were on crack.
Losing my thoughts if only,
for a moment in time;
your words,
what I needed to hear.
Then I became un-blind.
Showing me shining things,
uttering the right words.
My world that crumbles,
under my very feet;
finally
stood still
if even for a minute.
of a thought of you.
Until reality came
bounding out.
What you expected.
What you doubt.
What you don't have,
that I hold true.
Do you really think?
That once I would see,
the ugly inside
you deserved me?
It was good,
until your twin came to play.
Now I see why I walked
away.
My faith;
My love;
My passion for the free;
Makes me selfish.
According to thee.
I would lay my life
for what I believe in.
You stand on the sidelines
with your big Cheshire grin.
Waving for me to come over...
as if there is a patch of
four leaf clovers.
Shiny things
do not impress me.
Stupid words
cannot caress me.
Lack of knowledge...
Pretension alike...
Saying one thing.
While in the place of honour
lies
nothing.
An empty shell.
Did you really think
I would not see through?
After leaving for so long...
Let me tell you,
I see right through you.
As I have crawled
kneeled,
bartered,
lived
homeless.
You were in your comfy world.
Alone
but
surrounded.
We have both
walked the fires of hell.
We both fought
for what we know.
The difference is you run,
I stand like a stone.
Shiny things
do not make me succumb.
A home with four walls
does not make a home.
If you take a way a man's
truth,
hounour,
faith
that is inborn.
I see we
get the shells of
the bodies
of the men
I have shorn.
You have your space,
I have mine.
The chess board is open;
It is quite divine.
My selfish world,
That I will not leave behind.
For I truly am
such an elitist.
All I want to do.
Is preserve the
down trodden;
the
broken.
those you
can't possibly see.
You're ever so right
it is about me.
That I would give all
to those that are
around,
those you walk by,
without a sound.
Yet I would stop
to lend a helping hand.
Priorities of a difference;
it is not what we do.
It is the honour of the
Faith we have carried since
time allowed us to choose.
With what I see,
I know.
You will save the sublime.
Though,
since,
I am so much about me,
I choose to help
To save a world that is
'mine'.