She used to write a good letter,
she would tell of trivialities, and embellish them,
with wordy descriptions, to make people smile.
She gave up penning letters
when she had her kids.

She used to be funny at parties,
she would tell stories, with embellishments,
of her particular plights, to make people laugh.
She gave up going to parties
when her mind went on the skids.

She used to think she didn't matter,
she lived inner fantasies, and embellished them,
with wordy descriptions, to make people see.
She gave up becoming reality
and drifted as she slid.

She now knows she is important,
she lives humanity and embellishes actions,
of her particular plights, to make people feel.
She gave up worrying about insanities,
and recreated her id.

Erin Moen
8/8/03
Copyright 2003 ©