My second poem of the day! I have been angered into writing this and I hope and as a confessional poet, I have struggled with this poem and the feelings it has invoked from deep within. Sometimes what one feels may be good news... is not necessarily news at all.
Blindly Subjective
How did it feel when you twisted that knife,
Are you that informed on me and my life?
Were you there when my tears flowed?
Now you share what you think you know!
Politely delivered as one sister to another,
Like you know - cause you too are a mother.
Look in the mirror before casting that stone,
As you enlighten me on my life and my home.
Look at you and your life with your sons,
Before informing me and what mine has done.
How do you know what mine really feels,
As you sit at your key pad; making me reel.
One passing visit and your that informed,
Of my relationships all tattered and torn?
My message to you as I sit at my keys,
Is back off... cause you don’t really know me.
By Helen Stallard
March 21, 2014
No comments:
Post a Comment