Coming Out Of My Shell
A humorous but hopefully insightful comment on reimagining oneself
All the King's horses and all the Kings men
Are so ineffective when there’s something to mend
I know from experience for I took a fall
Reliance on others did nothing at all
When your shell is all broken, and your guts have spilled out
Authority figures just don’t hold that much clout
To reckon with Demons who escape through the cracks
And turn back upon you, your soul to attack
The King's men and horses don’t understand well
Why they're useless for reconstructing a fragmented shell
The shell of my ego was fractured to bits
All my thoughts ran together when I lost my wits
Without its protection, my fall scrambled my core
I just wasn't the same as I had been before
From the fall that I took something troubling awoke
A deep-seated feeling that I ruptured my yoke
A smart-ass psychiatrist might put it like this
Long before my shell fractured there was something amiss
Exoskeletal reliance is now understood
To reflect maladaptation under one's hood
Once my shell had been broken, I was left with no choice
To rise like a Phoenix, I had to find my own voice
So I labored in solitude to restore my mind
Stumbling forward leaving my shell behind
Still, slowly time healed me, I regained my sight
I began to see my way out of the night
I saw that my shell had broken only just when
I really did not need to put it back together again
That one’s a winner, Breck. David.