Wallowing Off The Pity Pot
By Freeway
All over creation she wallowed feeling oh so sorry for herself She felt like an old dusty book no one would retrieve from a shelf Self-pity--her closest companion She refused to alter her mind with choice Thoughts of joy erupted but soon changed--she'd have to rejoice She enjoyed magnifying problems drawing sympathy from others to her She'd call and dump on her buddies until they refused to step on her turf Self-pity enabled a refrain from dealing with anger or fear But it did not bring friendly faces They turned never again to appear Woe-is-me suited her purpose of not assuming responsibility With unhappinesss and alienation reaching closer to her decidedly Self-pity created more pain so she rolled sideways on the pot realizing in the scheme of things she was no more than speck or dot September 11th she got off the pot and tied her apron bow thanking God for strength to bake for all in need at Ground Zero. Written November 15th, 2001 © on Nov 15 2001 01:49 AM PST 10 • 0
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"All over creation she wallowed ..."