Clutching a stumbled-on handful
Of my now-obsolete business cards
I fan them like a deck of playing cards
And bitterly weep on them.

They tell me I once had a job
That mattered in the lives of others.
They tell me I was good at it
And never meant to give it up.

But evilness reared up its head
With prejudice and cunning
And finally conjured up a way
To take away my meaning.

I fold the cards into a stack
And put it over to the side-
The tossing out will have to wait
’Til I am stronger than today.
                ljm

These notes were just abandoned pages, until I took them in and they adopted my thoughts. My name as their own.

Be like yourself
Never be like
someone or
somebody else

To be soft and suffering
Is sometimes the best way to get through.