Home » Poetry » Day 213 – Because Talking To Myself Would Be Crazy

Day 213 – Because Talking To Myself Would Be Crazy

Sometimes you write really mean notes to me
but I never see you.
That makes sense.

Most of the time they’re full of ranting about
how I wasn’t a good friend.
That makes sense.

Most of those times I sit down to write you back,
try to find the words to make it right,
but I usually wake up before that
and say “forget about that,
he wasn’t no saint, neither.”

But the day unfolds timidly.

It brings distractions, though,
and the dreams, if they come,
are sporadic and light
and full of thanking my child’s teachers
for all the hard work they do.

(That always earns a smirk
’cause I don’t have any kids
and it’s amusing to be so obvious)

But you had to get in one last note
before it could be done, and I know
this was the last one
because you didn’t write it.

A note of forgiveness this time
to say “you did what you could,
now forget about it-
he wasn’t no saint, neither.”

And I know it’s the last one
because he didn’t write it.
That makes total sense.

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2 thoughts on “Day 213 – Because Talking To Myself Would Be Crazy

  1. Stereotype? Come on! Nothing but. “saads” giving books to children is not only a mission, it is almost an NGO.
    Thank for your thoughts. (And a penny)
    Keep writing
    Brian

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