Waters of unequal trials
jerry KWATCHEY@kwatcheyjerry128608
3 days ago
#poetry
THE WATERS OF UNEQUAL TRIALS
A Reflection from the SIMU Collection.
There is a quiet cruelty that lives in the heart of human nature
a hypocrisy so subtle,
so elegantly disguised,
that you almost miss it until you’re drowning in its weight.
It is the cruelty of comparison
between people who were never placed on equal waters.
Some are handed finely carved oars,
smooth, balanced, symmetrical
tools made to glide,
to conquer distance,
to taste the sweetness of effortless progress.
And then there are the oars they placed in your hands.
Cracked.
Splintered.
Heavy with the memory of every struggle you never asked for.
You were pushed into the same river,
expected to move just as swiftly,
judged by the same standards
in a race where you were never given a fair beginning.
Yet the same hands that placed those broken oars in your palms
stand at the shoreline cheering for others
marveling at their speed,
admiring their precision,
celebrating how cleanly they cut through the current.
Their admiration grows louder, brighter, fuller
as they gasp at the beauty of those who were given ease
while their voice toward you is sharpened by disappointment,
their gaze clouded by contempt.
They call you slow
without acknowledging the storms you rowed through.
They call you unfocused
without remembering the weight they tied to your boat.
They call you a failure
while pretending not to see the limitations
they themselves wrapped around your journey.
But the water remembers.
The river knows.
And deep in your spirit, so do you.
For those who row with broken oars
develop a strength untouched by comfort.
A resilience carved not by luxury
but by survival.
A depth of understanding
born from battling currents meant to break you.
Your progress may look different.
Your path may be jagged,
your movement uneven,
your victories quiet and unphotographed
but every inch you’ve gained
is a testament to a spirit forged underwater.
Because you were rowing against more than the river.
You were rowing against betrayal,
against expectation,
against the silent sabotage of people
who demanded greatness
while handing you obstacles shaped like help.
And still… you moved.
One day, when you reach a shore
they never imagined you could touch,
your story will not be about speed.
It will not be about applause.
It will not be about the ease they celebrated in others.
Your story will be this:
You crossed the waters of unequal trials
with oars that were never meant to carry you
and yet you arrived.
A Reflection from the SIMU Collection.
