Setting: Life after college--during second post-college job
Form: Free verse
Do they see my discomfort?
Do I appear shy
or maybe embarrassed?
Do I act gracious
or maybe uninterested?
Do they see my cringing?
Do my actions speak truth?
For I smile and nod
I thank them and nod
And I know they have not a clue
because they continue
and I nod
Nod past the cringing
praying they’ll stop
For though sweet their words are
For though gracious I am of their kindness
My heart aches when they speak so.
In all that rambling, I never once made note of the above poem. In case you didn't pick up on it, I don’t do compliments well—never really have. There are bits and pieces of this poem and another from the red journal (called You Look Beautiful) that found their way into a (crappy) song I wrote ages ago which is posted here on …don’t open…don’t throw away…. The ‘song’, also entitled You Look Beautiful, appears in two spots, one containing the words in their entirety and one (a voki) with a snippet of me singing the song in another post.
Artifact I: The red leather rose journal.
Artifact II: The original handwritten poem.