Poetic Sojourn
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  • the weight of years
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  • days on pensive wing

there was a bitter old shrew
(no relation to that dear woman in the shoe)

there was an old shrew who lived in full view
she wanted you should know everything she went through
regarding every wrong she ever perceived occurred
it was never her fault, as you no doubt have heard
since she never lets up until she's thoroughly certain
she's pitied by all because she's the only one hurtin

she's remembered and documented each and every one
every time her pen scratches, they continue to come
for if she felt there weren't enough, she'd just make up some
and dwell on them incessantly to ad nauseam
of course they will take on increased magnification
each time she bestows upon us another proclamation

yet there's two sides to every story and for her that's true too
there's hers and still more hers, told till you're blue
she feels it's her right to cut down all she never knew
paint them with her blame as if they'd done it to her too
she sits, sighs and complains to unfortunate passers by
has blame enough sown, never admitting to her own

if you dare voice a point contrary to her line
you're targeted and accused of attacking all her kind
she represents all of them in her own mind
so she'll never cease to have enough on which to whine
to her, whinin is like fine dinin to be savored and enjoyed
vital to keep her neurotic, beloved martyrdom buoyed

she'd raise her daughters by instilling her hoarded bitterness
every day the same obdurate exaggerated lip service
tells them they would be better off with their own kind
leaves them no choice; never allows them their own mind
but happiness with their opposite remains her deepest fear
so she's dedicated to stain young minds extreme with smear

in this way she would guarantee a foundation lay beneath
for her descendant generations her hatred to bequeath
after all, she is the center of all God's creation
her happiness its meaning and only manifestation
if it falls short then there's bloody hell to be paid
and forever more on the chopping block all your heads should be laid
Picture
Written by Scott Schoffstall
©  October 30, 2011
all rights reserved
http://www.poeticsojourn.com/the-sojourner.html
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