Remember Me

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A Struggling Author

Don’t remember me
For the mistakes I make.
For those in the past
Are certainly not going to be my last.

Remember me
For how I make amends.
Every now and then,
Even when I leave you wondering when.

Don’t remember me
For what I say.
For I may not have said
As much as I may have taken to bed.

Remember me
For how I stood beside you.
Whether you spelt it out
Or I myself figured out.

Don’t remember me
For what I did for you.
For many will surpass me
Whether or not I let it be.

Remember me
For how I made you feel
When we were surrounded by many
Or not at all any.

Don’t remember me
When I am gone,
When you can’t see me anymore,
When you can touch me no more.

Remember me
Every day in your heart,
As I still have…

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To the Bully

A Struggling Author

To the bully in school
Who took my lunch away,
I say,
I am sorry that you didn’t
Have lunch of your own.
I pity that this is how you dealt with it.

To the bully in the playground
Who wouldn’t let me play,
I say,
I am sorry that you needed a foe
To compensate for not having friends.
I pity that this is how you dealt with it.

To the bully in college
Who spread rumours about me,
I say,
I am sorry you needed to spin a tale
For your reality wasn’t interesting enough.
I pity that this is how you dealt with it.

To the bully in the workplace
Who tried to make me feel worthless,
I say,
I am sorry that this is how
Your senior treated you.
I pity that this is how you dealt with it.

To the bully of a relative
Who…

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But Really

Sharon Unfiltered

Photo credit: Jenny Hayut

A friend sent me the above photo knowing I love nature and all that is uplifting. The seemingly brave little ladybird inspired me immediately.

Really

Despite my bravado
My no filters systems go
Keen for darkness and the oh my!
With Google searches
You wouldn’t believe

But really

I miss hugs
From warm arms
I miss shared cake
Then stone-cold coffee
Sharing “don’t tells”
Listening with intrigue
Walks in the park
Feeding pigeons on my arm

Yet really

A bold lost ladybird
Screaming to fly away
Escape from the fires
Of fields scorched black
Peach roses beckon me
Petals embrace…
I’m safe

“Ladybug, Ladybug, fly away home
Your house is on fire
And your children will burn
Except little Nan, who sits in a pan
Weaving gold laces as fast as she can!”
~ Medieval English rhyme

© Copyright: Sharon Lawson™

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