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Shoo

IMG_0386 Decluttering produces so many unexpected results. I’ve bestowed largesse upon my¬†unsuspecting local Goodwill, saved my church $11.00 by discovering I already had the study guide they wanted to give me, and now unearthed a piece of poetry written at a literary conference a couple of years back. They gave us the spoken prompt, “Shoe” – no particular spelling given. With a few minor edits, this was the result.

SHOO

Shoo, boy. Shoo.
There was a time when I lived and died for you.
We both know how I cried, when the world wasn’t right with you.
I check your pulse each morning to see how I felt,
If I was well enough today, or maybe just so-so.
Only you could know.
You tugged my puppet strings, manipulated my soul
as your personal playing.
Starting fresh each day to see what you wanted to make of me
Till one day I awoke to find that there was no gain
Nothing for me in aligning my world to you.
The best I could hope for was lack of pain if by chance I did everything right,
just the way you wished
And suddenly it wasn’t enough.
Being your mirror no longer filled me up.
I stood tall and saw all the smallness of your spirit
I needed more, needed to be myself and find my own star
Somewhere that you aren’t.
Now I need all the room here to see
how much I can be.
And I have only these words for you
Shoo, boy. Just shoo.

Kimberly could tell you who inspired this poem, but she’d be here all day. Men in her past, friends, co-workers and even parts of herself are the antagonists here. She thought of one person to start, but they all kept filing in. When you learn to value yourself, many people – including people you might once have been – have to go.

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