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Write a poem
and make it pretty. It shouldn't be too hard putting one word in front of another. (But oh, what a bother.) Yes, its... Just like walking a straight line right across the page. You might become the poetess of the age? Then again you might not. (Niceness is not a guarantee.) Nor is laughter. Hey! That's it! Say what you say but not what you mean. Keeping it nice doesn't mean that its clean or that its honest. Cluttering up the conversation with clumsy clanking claptrap You're talking to be clever but that's not where its at. Or is it for some? I spent way too many years and words being just like that. Until I met him, my friend, my truth. Wish I'd met him in my youth. But then there wouldn't be a story, now, would there be? I soon learned all about honesty... and that it was foremost the best policy. So, I became a policy maker, instead of a being nicety-nice word under-taker. I felt less lonely learning how to be me. In the past I'd done myself way differently and couldn't keep my words and my past straight: I had thought people didn't want to know the real me. (Or they simply couldn't relate.) But honesty did. "We are all just as sick as our secrets," He said. "And we live sometimes by our bootstraps, but its better than being led by the nose." "If you want to live fully, live within your heart, not just within your head." So I no longer write pretty poems... because they aren't me. And I write and say pretty words only when they are what I mean, and I mean them. And I feel them. Good-bye, good luck pretty-pretty. God speed you on your lonely quest... And I'm feeling much better now. And I am so much better and better off than I ever was. Copyright May 25 2012 Melissa A Howells All rights are definitely reserved by this Author. Meloo from her Tilt-a-World Vote for this poem |
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