At My Best
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She told someone that my verse was lacking
It failed to stir her idea of inspiration and feeling
Kept her waiting for the spontaneous ending
Left her with nothing more than discontentment
She wasn’t very private with her thoughts of me
My muse, she said, was nothing but an invention
Of curiosities, leaving her with ample room to gossip
About me, with several words that deserve omission
She left me feeling so ashamed that I even posted
A poem so unenlightened and benighted that I hoped
I could simply delete the words before anyone else
Happened across my verse with sure words of warning
Finally, after much worry and wishing, I changed the title
To “a failed poem” and left it with words of choice forgiveness
For her, who had given me so much to feel discouraged for…
I simply told her, “I love you. God loves you and I forgive you”
After all was said and done, I turned the other cheek to her
Allowing her the opportunity to strike me with more words
Of dissuasion and caution, allowing me the opportunity to
Bless her in spite of my desire to feel better.. yet, I feel my best!
Matthew 5:39 -
But I say unto you, That ye resist not evil: but whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also.
Judged By A Jury Of Your Peers Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Mark Koplin
October 29, 2020
NOTE from Author: This is a totally fictional poem for the contest theme only
Copyright © Regina Mcintosh | Year Posted 2020
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