People
Why should you try to crush me?
Am I so Christ-like?
You beat against me,
Immense waves, filthy with refuse.
I am the last upright of a smashed break-water,
But you shall not crush me
Though you bury me in foaming slime
And hiss your hatred about me.
You break over me, cover me;
I shudder at the contact;
Yet I pierce through you
And stand up, torn, dripping, shaken,
But whole and fierce.