–by Becky WTGH

Here we are, again.

How glorious, you are;

To think you’ve tried,

But, deep down,

know you didn’t.

To attempt to understand,

what others couldn’t.

Pity me, tiptoe me sweetly,

how lovely.

I would confess that I’ve cried,

However–truth is

I don’t start things I can’t finish.

You can’t know another’s pain, another’s experience

But that doesn’t stop you, from

Chasing the sensationalist.

We live vicariously, import sensory

Who could blame ?

Someone seeking fame.

Sending feelers out for pain,

Looking to learn, looking to gain.


Stop trying.

Stop learning.

And most of all–

Stop prying.

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