Author: Mark Spencer
Because I have a handicap,
My reading isn't strong,
I'm afraid to leave a comment,
For fear I'll get it wrong.
This bothersome dyslexia
And when it's mixed with ADD
It strains my attention.
Most poetry is metaphor,
And I don't hear that muse.
There must be more than pretty words,
Or meanings get confused.
I cannot write without a point,
Something to fill my soul.
I'll never finish what I start,
If I don't have a goal.
And each goal must be logical,
With benefit to all.
To write about a summer breeze,
That goal is much too small.
Earthly things don't feed my soul,
For me, they hold no sway.
Unless a poem nourishes,
Its message slips away.
Because of my predicament
My peers have often strayed.
My silence fuels resentful thoughts,
And virtue is betrayed.
I've become a stumbling block,
For those less than sincere.
Who only seek my words of praise,
On works they've posted here.
For when they don't receive those words,
They choose a bitter path.
And pass their judgment on my soul,
With a resentful wrath.
The friendship they had offered me,
Was given for a price.
My lack of comments on their work
Rendered them cold as ice.
But that's between each soul and God,
There's nothing I can do.
I'll simply warn them in a rhyme,
Then leave it up to you.
I'm just a man with handicaps,
And no skill for small talk.
I have no wish to be a pit,
Or a stumbling block.
Comments on this poem/writing:
|Wess (126.96.36.199) -- Tuesday, October 4 2011, 05:11 am|
Mark I applaud you for the humility you show by posting this. Many people only take care of number one. I've had people ask to be my friend after leaving a short generic comment. After that they ask me to read a "few" of theirs, saying they respect my opinion because I'm such a great writer. Yeah...here's your sign. That's just how people are. Great poem!
|barb (188.8.131.52) -- Wednesday, October 5 2011, 12:30 am|
I'm disabled and find some people are rude and some are kind ,try to ignore the rude ones just hang around the kind ones.
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