Personal Eipiphany Poem by Panagiota Romios

My own epiphany,
In San Francisco, came, learning from transformed people....
Who rang my brains like the brains in a church steeple.

When I found out that playing the
victim in life, is so very lame.
I became, stronger, a doer, and
learned life's game,

What's that you say?
You are the Rock of Gibraltar?
Get wise, be transformed, we all
play games.

As a child you learned to survive
by playing any multitude of games.
The intellectual, the all holy one,
behind these is pure victim.
Afraid to be yourself, some side-show of
intellectual wealth.
You quip people with with both wit or stealth.

Once upon a real human being, you perchance,
No longer can you play the victim dance.
The jig is up, as they say.
You wake one morning and have to live another
way.

It's not easy, you were trained to be unquestioably
right!
You know it all?
The Book of Life?
Of course, some insist they do in
rabid resistance.
Still playing victims, behind that witty, hyperbolic,
flight fence!

Some here or in the world think they are
Nostradamus.
In sojourning through life, nobody has the knuckles
on all that is right, but oh, such arrogant fuss.

Oh, but pretend they will!
Watch the maniacs trying to destroy history and the
public will.
Victims all, such buffoonery.
They are not better than you or me.
But that victim dance may cost them or you, a fruitful life.
Full of blood, tears and strife.

I wish you transformation inside
your own temple.
Where you find love, generosity, the willingness to
find it within yourself to build a world that works for all,
and grow beyond the thorns of being judgemental.




11-28-2029