“You’ve got to hold it in” said someone to the wall that was a Dam,
And it did.
The water was a rampaging force,
Pushing at the wall,
Day in and day out,
Needing recourse, needing to be let free to flow,
Yet there were so many, needing the water more.
The dam stood strong.
Too much was at stake, too many lives to consider,
Too much was contained, and so the strength began to wither,
And yet it was, as it was to be,
The Dam stood strong.
The force formed a crevice,
As unrelenting as it was,
A tiny crack in the stony façade…
The dam is strong they said, those who’d built it,
It won’t break down said those, who saw nothing but what it showed,
An unblemished veneer, an unsuccumbing spirit,
A faith that was so bold,
It made believers out of those, who’d known nothing to hold.
Life went on, as it does, a litany without a slip,
And so no one took heed, of an unassuming chip.
Not that the surface crumbled, but every day the fear grew,
As the dam stood taking stock, it wasn’t good it knew.
It feared the ravaged lives, for those it would be blamed,
It feared suffering indignity, and that it would be shamed,
And perhaps what it feared most,
was that its sense of self was lost,
for it had chosen strength, not naked vulnerability,
for strength was simply expected,
as was that its honour be kept,
resolutely it stood strong,
though its seeping sore wept.
Then one day rose such furore,
The like of which nothing ever was seen,
For one morning was found a crumbled ruin,
where the dam always had been.
As they stood marveling at the gushing waters,
Reckoning a force so long contained,
Unsurprised, now they could see,
It had been a matter not of if but when,
A lone brick they found afloat,
It said in a whisper pained,
“I stood strong, gave it my all,
but now… I am done.”