The sweat beads down my forehead
"You're a loser!"
"You're a man without a backbone"
My instincts have me ready to attack
But I catch something in my periphery
A sliver of pink on a golden horizon
I hear its soothing words:
"You will rise above those words.
You will have a place among the stars
while they are still scraping their knees on the gravel of their lives"
This reminds me that I am beyond the words thrown at me
from tongues of glass and mouths of hate
I look at those throwing words of disgust at me,
say "The sky is my source of calm, my source of life,
and it will never perish"
I unclench my fists
and walk away