I am the lighthouse

of cracked, crusted paint
on solitary ground.
I stand alone against the storm
with dignity and pride.
I may be homely without beauty,
but I do not need those things.

I stand from afar,
solitary, away from the cities and
my kin, the towers of glory.
Few remember me,
but the sailors know my faithful song
that sings in the night,
through the storm,
because I am strong and faithful,
and there is none other
brave enough to take my place.

I smile faintly and watch
as the ship lands safely
as tears and laughter fill the port
as beloved fathers come to life
before their children, their wives,
and through that,
I am silent.
I have no part—
rather, my part is forgotten.

But I am strong,
I need no other,
I have no other.