My Feet Show It

Those of you who know Martin and my dating story know that it was not a simple, easy or straight path. We had a few roadblocks, dead ends and one big pothole.

In times of sadness, stress and frustration, you learn some things about yourself. I once heard someone say that people are like ketchup packets: until you squeeze them, you don't know what's really inside. Well, among other things, I found that a really lousy poet is inside me. When I feel rotten, I write rotten poetry. Our dating saga produced some doozies. I sure hope that I threw them away...

After a particularly hard night last week, this is what came to me. Enjoy, or not, as it is truly terrible.

My Womb

Is an empty tomb; the tiny body spirited away.
Is an unoccupied room; the little one couldn't stay.
Is a garden without bloom;... something that ends in "day"?

That's as far as I got. It's been in my Drafts folder for over a week, and I finally
decided that there was no more inspiration in that particular well. I hope the laugh you get from my morose and overly simplistic rhyming scheme makes your day better.