A dear friend of mine gave me the title to this next little ditty. He said it out of defensive sarcasm, but now I take it as my anthem to the next chapter in my life.
More Power To Ya
So you think you know everything there is to know.
About livin' and givin', you are such a pro.
Standin' smug in the corner with a haughty glare,
You're concerned that a passerby would even care.
What a joke! You embody all that's raw and fake.
There's no rhyme in your attitude for goodness sake.
Posing manikin, plastic-like, you must be told
what to do, how to think and act. You're never bold.
When a wave of initiative envelopes you
wailing muscular verbiage that's so overdue
You must summon the courage to let off some steam
with your pent up aggression bursting at the seam
Not a scapegoat, no carpet flung beneath your feet
will I be for you anytime, so have a seat.
Blow it out, let it go, and let me validate
that you're right. There's no reason to pontificate.
Stick a pin in that ego that inflates your brain
and release all the hot air making you insane.
Don't you fret. I will never beg. I won't pursue ya.
As you once told me, my dear friend, more power to ya.
Barbara Lois Fullard | 