I'd love for this to be about someone else, but alas, it is not. I am officially the "cheesy poem writer." Sometime in my youth, I got it in my head to start rhyming words. Simple words rhyme easily, and so my 5th grade vocabulary and I rhyme away. Sometimes I just do it in my head. Sometimes, I write down what comes to me.
Somehow, it got out that I can write some cheesy poems with rhyming. "Can you write a birthday poem for my husband?" "Can you write a get well poem?" "Can you write me an anniversary poem?" And each time, I said, "yes." Why not? So, I labor for about 5-10 minutes... sometimes a long one with a lot of detail will take longer... sometimes I have it written in just 2 minutes... and walah, a poem for your greeting card, letter, etc.
I even write cheesy poems sometimes to my friends. They just come to me. It's a skill I am not particularly proud of. None of the poems follow a good iambic pentameter. They are literally what your third grader writes. For example, "day" rhymes with "way," so those are two words to use to end a phrase. It's sad, really, how very simple this is.
When people do send them home, though, their families and friends seem to love them. They always tell a story and even when I have no idea who I'm writing the poem for, I always ask just a few questions to make it a little personal for the sender and receiver. I write nearly none for myself. However, often when I wake up, one is sitting in my head and I think it all the way through, writing and rewriting lines in my head to make it flow. I have no idea what dream leads to these cheesy poems, but there they are, most mornings, in my head.
This morning was no different. Perhaps it is because I wrote one of my cheesy poems for someone yesterday who is going through a difficult time right now. I woke this morning around 3:45am, which is my typical time as of late. My bunkie wakes up then to get ready to go to her job in food service, and while she is very quiet, something wakes me. I do not complain, it is her job and way more important than anything I have to do these days. Sometimes I fall back to sleep, most times it takes a long while or I don't. I'm okay either way, by that time, I usually have enough energy to face at least my morning.
This morning, however, I did a rare thing. I wrote the cheesy poem in my head down on paper. I guess I have my release in my head, because it focused on that. So, since you read everything about me, I suppose you may enjoy reading one of my very cheesy poems. Here it goes:
Home is where I am heading,
to my own room and bedding.
I will leave the fences and prison behind,
and will live in the present, not rewind.
I am leaving a bit stronger,
fear guiding me no longer.
For I do not hide from my past,
I can truly love myself at last.
Recovery carries me through my days,
and guides my life in so many ways.
It's gratitude and humility I feel,
so I can stay focused and 'keep it real.'
I will not look back in shame,
as there can exist no blame.
Our experiences make us who we are,
and walking through difficulty can take us far.
Looking back at this place,
it will be just another space,
where I was led by God to grow,
I can survive anything, I now know.
(See the "heading" and "bedding" rhyme is just SOOOOO very cheesy... but, hey, it worked!)
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