Peddlers
a poem about eavesdroppers and nosy bodies
Here you are again,
peddling for attention,
dropping in your two-cent opinion
in an expensive-for-you conversation.
***
You don't know the story.
You just want a bit of the glory.
You're counting your advice like inventory
like you need to add it to your history.
***
Hopefully you learn to butt out soon,
because none of us are immune
to the power of a hurtful tune,
ripping through the soul like a monsoon.
***
Now I don't mean to be rude,
but you don't have to make it a goal to intrude.
So this is what I conclude:
Not everything you hear needs to be pursued.
About the Creator
Alexandria Stanwyck
My inner child screams joyfully as I fall back in love with writing.
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instead of therapy: poetry and lyrics about struggling and healing is available on Amazon.
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More stories from Alexandria Stanwyck and writers in Poets and other communities.
Grandma's Sweet Potato Pie
I can barely remember you because you died along with her, and it's only her daughter who makes you now. Something's missing, but I can't quite put my finger on it; you have the same creamy texture, smooth like the rarest satin suited only for the highest of royals. You still have that unique shade of brown and I can see the specks of spice; it reminds me of her freckles and stars in the night sky. Your crust was always crimped and flaky, so different from her. She could not be compressed, forced in a mold, and she made sure she was always there until she couldn't anymore. It all blends into this perfect sweet bite of nostalgia, comfort, and home except, except something is still missing, and I still can't see it. Maybe the thing missing is her: "It was made with love." It's quite bittersweet to think of you. I miss you, I do, but sweet potato pie, I miss her more.
By Alexandria Stanwyck2 years ago in Poets
Standing While Falling
Quotation from Friedrich Nietzsche "He who wrestles long with monsters should beware lest he himself become a monster. And if you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss also gazes into you. Man is not destroyed by suffering, but by the meaning he makes of it."
By LUCCIAN LAYTH7 days ago in Critique
Comments (3)
Amen!
You don’t know the story… lived that stanza and the entire poem!! 🤔 hmmm, who should see this? 😜 Many!
Beautiful thoughts!😊