Stumbling Block

Stumbling Block
By Mark Spencer

Because I have a handicap,
My reading isn't strong,
I'm afraid to leave a comment,
For fear I'll get it wrong.

This bothersome dyslexia
Affects comprehension.
And when it's mixed with ADD
It strains my attention.

Most poetry is metaphor,
And I don't hear that muse.
There must be more than pretty words,
Or meanings get confused.

I cannot write without a point,
Something to fill my soul.
I'll never finish what I start,
If I don't have a goal.

And each goal must be logical,
With benefit to all.
To write about a summer breeze,
That goal is much too small.

Earthly things don't feed my soul,
For me, they hold no sway.
Unless a poem nourishes,
Its message slips away.

Because of my predicament
My peers have often strayed.
My silence fuels resentful thoughts,
And virtue is betrayed.

I've become a stumbling block,
For those less than sincere.
Who only seek my words of praise,
On works they've posted here.

For when they don't receive those words,
They choose a bitter path.
And pass their judgment on my soul,
With a resentful wrath.

The friendship they had offered me,
Was given for a price.
My lack of comments on their work
Rendered them cold as ice.

But that's between each soul and God,
There's nothing I can do.
I'll simply warn them in a rhyme,
Then leave it up to you.

I'm just a man with handicaps,
And no skill for small talk.
I do not want to be your pit,
Or your stumbling block.