Sometimes when I sit
with legs crossed
hands folded in my lap
I, prepared for battle,
you, hastily erecting your wall
it occurs to me
that no matter what I say to you
all you hear is pain
and pain was never my intention
so I start speaking of pretty things
even though what's in my head is ugly
has always been that way
and I've lied through this prettiness
for so long now that
even my yawns start to feel fake.
Bravo!
Sometimes we mold ourselves to be acceptable to others, and find that we lose who we truly are. I say phuck'em if they can't take a joke, and stay true to myself.
....probably why I'm alone...lol.
-James
Reviewed by Alexander Shaumyan (Reader)
Reviewed on February 1, 2003
Great poem, April. Life ain't pretty but we still have flower power. :)
Join me as we travel together on the road called "Aging." I will be sharing my personal experiences with you and offer ideas on how we can better navigate the complex byways of our older years. Grief, healing, generations, ancestors, and more.
Sherlyn Powell opens up about her love and devotion to her family and the overwhelming repercussion when communication breaks down. Heartbroken and distraught she learns to release her prayer and realize with faith God would reunite her family.
She never felt safe at home as a young girl, and didn't understand why when she finally escaped she wasn't safe in the big wide world either ...effectively jumping out of the frying pan into the fire!
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Sometimes we mold ourselves to be acceptable to others, and find that we lose who we truly are. I say phuck'em if they can't take a joke, and stay true to myself.
....probably why I'm alone...lol.
-James
Jill