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The Question
We knew you’d write a poem, they said
And I’d, of course, complied.
My rhyming seems to be the way
I’m oft identified.
We all carve a persona
Other people recognize.
It’s comforting to know the way
We’re seen through others’ eyes.
Yet expectations raise the bar
And leave us little choice.
Our friends and family want to hear
That old familiar voice.
For me, I’m just as happy
Doing that which is expected.
If I did otherwise, I think
Surprise would be reflected.
And yet I wonder what they’d feel
If I would write in prose -
Relief or disappointment?
That’s the question, I suppose.
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