by RonneeM


My name is Ezra Standish
A small boy stood, staring into the silver mirror
A woman with a gentle hand removed the tear tracks
He turned to her, reached for comfort
"Only trust yourself, son, not me, not anyone else, ever."
He blinked uncertainly, paused and was rewarded
With a brief smile and a rare, "That’s my boy!"
He swore to never forget his new name.

My name is Ezra Standish
A young boy huddled in a dark alley
His arms wrapped around his painful ribs
His ragged clothing hung loose, waving in the wind
Bitter pain, rage, and fear shone from his eyes
But he never spoke a word or cried out
Not when his tormentors were chased away
Nor when his mother rescued him from his new friends
But his soul whispered his name.

My name is Ezra Standish
The teen recited the words in his head
Holding onto them fiercely as he was left yet again
Another unwilling relative accepting the burden
While his mother went off to earn her fortune
He was forced to conform to their beliefs
So he hid his cards and bit his tongue
But never broke or forgot who he was.

My name is Ezra Standish
The young man signed the papers grimly
Joining a war he did not believe in out of duty
He had read and studied enough to know better
He survived battles and routs, famine and plenty
He was captured, imprisoned, and sentenced to hang
But a fever struck hard, he escaped and went home
Only to find all he had left was his name.

My name is Ezra Standish
The smooth gambler introduced himself
He flashed the gold tooth earned in battle
As he prepared to defend himself against bad odds
Only to be met with grudging acceptance
Slowly, tenuously he settled on the edge of the group
Accepting blows, and taunts, and overtures of friendship
While earning a new title to go with his name.

I am Ezra Standish
I am Maude’s son.
I am an orphan.
I am a con artist.
I am a scholar.
I am a soldier.
I am a widower.
I am a gambler.
I am a… lawman.

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