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Makenzie Marie Oct 2014
And so I watch
And I listen
as faithful friend after friend excuses themselves
with their funny excuses
and I laugh
at the joke that the fates have whispered to me
No one else seems to hear it
It’s not quite so funny, you see.
The pitter patter of the pity
You can hear it, you see
You can see it, actually.
“It’s a small thing among friends”
And a small thing to see in a stranger’s face
The twinge of sadness and confusion and relief for themselves
They look at me and they see what they will never be
They see, though, what could happen, horribly.
One in 100
maybe.
1,000
10,100?
less likely
(for you).
And so I watch
And I listen
And they whisper
and they wonder
and they worry
And I laugh
at the joke that life telling me,
mocking at me.
But it’s not quite so funny, you see.
The whispering of the Wonderers
Asking over politely
Never listening intently
And I’ll tell them all about it
And I will listen
to the pitter patter of the pity.
Pitter pattering;
tip toeing around me,
so constantly
and away, usually.
tip toeing of tongues in whispers so willingly disregarding me,
or cautiously eluding everything.
Or even tip toeing of tongues trying to calm me.
The pitter patter of pitty.
You can hear it, you see.
You can see it, actually.
It may be a small thing.
Truthfully, it’s bigger than you might see.
I see.
And I laugh.
at the joke that the the fates whispered.
No one else quite seems to understand it.
But It’s become quite funny, to me.
What a pity.
Last Saturday, I took an empty seat
on a park bench, with book in hand.
Feeling sorry for myself, I failed-
to notice others on this public land.

Disillusioned with life’s loneliness,
my heart and face both wore sad frowns.
From my perspective, this world was…
insistent on dragging my weary soul down.

While my inner sadness wasn’t enough,
to completely complement my pitiful day,
I was approached by a breathless boy,
who had taken time to rest from his play.

With unexpected exuberance, he spoke
to me, with his head oddly, tilted down,
as he shared an unwanted gift with me-
"Look at this flower, I’ve just found!"

Though all of its petals were badly worn,
I could tell, it had been a supple rose;
my spirit, desired only misery’s company
and not his presence of disheveled clothes.

I hoped that he would take his treasure
and leave- in search of solitary play;
so I imitated my finest, insincere smile
and intentionally shifted my gaze away.

Instead of retreating, he sat beside me.
“My flower is scented and beautiful too;
thanks for being my newest friend today,
for I picked this, especially for you.”

Patiently waiting, with tiny hands extended,
he presented the remnant of his dead ****;
I knew I had to take it, to induce his leave-
so I sarcastically replied "Just what I need."

Without an explanation, he held it mid-air;
then I finally noticed, for the first time,
that this happy, gift-toting child was blind
and I’m left more speechless than a boxed mime.

Thanking him with a repentant, quivering voice,
my streaming tears shone brightly like the sun;
while I managed to express some real gratitude,
I acknowledged that he had chosen the “best one”.

Unaware of the powerful impact that he had on me,
he smiled and joyfully slid down off our bench;
then he wandered off, as quickly as he could-
with a second, dead rose that he lovingly clenched.

So I was stunned, wondering how he managed to see
this woman drowning in her self-indulgent plight.
Through his blindness, I saw that the problem was me;
by his heart action, he blessed me with true sight.

From this moment, I vow to change and see beauty
in life and appreciate every second that's mine.
Therefore, I’ve decided to move forward with purpose,
for I can’t allow my fragile heart to remain blind.

And even now, I’m becoming emotionally overwhelmed
with this unexpected flood of tear-filled shame.
In retrospect, my manners were severely lacking:
for I neglected to ask- this earth-angel… his name.
Author Notes

Inspired by:
2 Cor 4:3-4; 2 Pet 3:9; John 20:29

Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ

By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2014, All rights reserved.
LeaveThisLife Sep 2014
I find myself..
Sitting here,
Thinking about you,
Again.
Another sleepless night,
Spent thinking about you,
Wasted.
You do not deserve my time,
You do not deserve my thoughts,
You certainly do not deserve my pity.
But here we go,
Again.
I'm lost in thoughts of you,
Again.
My wrist had fallen apart and cut itself out of pity
On the edge of a desk full to the brim with my pain
It wasn’t deep but it bled; the skyline of your city
A trail of red she left for dead or else rendered insane
I can see the disappointment tracing patterns in your eyes
I predicted you would feel it - wanted you to feel hell
Don’t worry, I can sew it back together though I lied
Through every murmured moment I tried hard not to tell

Knowledge hurts, my love - and so does every impulse
And so does every moment that I find myself alive
I’d hate to break my promise but I’m a second from demonic
With an angel in my veins who takes most of her time to cry
I have the urge to set her loose either for release or spite
But I leave her there, suppressed, and I just let her lose her mind
Which I’m forced into and tortured under cover of the night
I don’t think that it’s worth it but it’s hard to change my kind
The lack of punctuation's on purpose.
Tara Marie Sep 2014
Incessant thought.
Crowded, cold.
Inevitable but true.

Searching for,
looking, or
Tore because of you.

Raining worries
fly amongst
the fairies filled with lies.

Gaining ground,
Silent sound.
Your smile begs a rise.

The spoken word,
the needed truth,
succumbs to selfish ways.

Blindfolded will,
despite the thrill,
subconsciously count the days.

Insanity prevails.
Decisions like whales.
Slow, and not precise.

Let them eat cake,
laughter they bake,
I don't care for a slice.

Despite all the thought,
optimistic intentions,
I still color my heartstrings blue.

Confused by this feeling,
******* drug dealing.
Inevitable, but true.
Selling lies for perception.
Beauteous Beast Aug 2014
Pity is the least I could get
for a girl like you who's nothing but a wreck
Wreck it btch ./.
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