Chapter 47 The Hardest Lesson
When I was young
Corrections were fun
I learned to avoid them
I drank in knowledge
Then came the teens
Too tall
Too smart
Four eyes
I wore glasses
Personal attacks of
Disapproving sneers
Your opinion
Doesn’t count
Your voice should not
be different
There’s only one right way
Because I said so
I learned and very slowly
to question the source
Corrections and suggestions
are fine you see
when given with intent to
improve
Tearing down and destroying
isn’t.
If it comes from a place of
Hate
ignore it, use the pain.
I know, easier said than done.
My shell is brittle still, even
Though it’s thick
A critique of the critic
Necessary to know
how to keep my creative craft
flowing.
And still it can bring hot
tears of shame
For no other reason
than our ideas are not
the same.
I am unique
and to some
intolerable
for being me
Their loss
my gain
I WON’T live
with their shame.