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.