Ann-Marie Spittle

THERE, BUT FOR THE GRACE OF GOD, GO I

The warnings have been glaringly obvious
Slapping me in the face
To not take the path of blind following
Or pay the price

Question all
Who say they know what’s best for you
Who do it only for you
Who claim they know your heart

These paths lead you
Like sheep to the slaughter house
Like salmon to the spawning grounds
Like wildebeest to the crocodiles’ jaws

While the leader sits back
Watching you flounder
Hands you a rock
Sees you sink
And saving you, extracts a price

My family history
Will always be with me
But I can choose to alter their choices
By paying attention
To their mistakes

And correcting the curves my life’s path
End in a straight line
With fewer bumps
From listening to the Pathfinders
Who paved the way for me