Tuesday, November 24, 2009


What's in a name?
We are bitter, victorious.
I am a pearl,
I say, with a hint of apology.
As if I know that immediately
You will say,
Quietly and in false sincerity:
I am not the pearl.
I am the tiny grain of sand--
The source of irritation
That produces a thing of beauty.
It was only in jest,
I know it was.
But it worked its way into my fragile shell,
Rested in my subconscious,
And it's fighting for my attention,
Destined to become another pearl
On a fraying string, tied so tightly
I can barely breathe.


Annie said...

Nice poem(:
and I like your Christmas song selections!


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