A True Poem
Lloyd Schwartz
I'm working on a poem that's so true, I can't show it to anyone.
I could never show it to anyone.
Because it says exactly what I think, and what I think scares me.
Sometimes it pleases me.
Usually it brings misery.
And this poem says exactly what I think.
What I think of myself, what I think of my friends, what I think about my lover.
Exactly.
Parts of it might please them, some of it might scare them.
Some of it might bring misery.
And I don't want to hurt them, I don't want to hurt them.
I don't want to hurt anybody.
I want everyone to love me.
Still, I keep working on it.
Why?
Why do I keep working on it?
Nobody will ever see it.
Nobody will ever see it.
I keep working on it even though I can never show it to anybody.
I keep working on it even though someone might get hurt.
Arthur Miller said that writers really aren't writing anything of worth unless they felt like they are transgressing against themselves. I feel this way all the time. I also feel like I'm exposing myself, not to ridicule, but to danger. Seriously. From whom or what? I admit that sometimes I can be a wee bit paranoid and horriblize and make giant leaps to worst possible scenarios. So if I am fearless and write what I really have to write: a poem, or short story, or a novel, what could happen? Sigh. Nothing. Flannery O'Connor was wracked with guilt about her material and thought her writing a sin. Thank God, Flannery wrote in spite of her guilt.
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