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"Get your facts first, then you can
distort them as you please."
-Mark Twain
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She voiced her opinion.
She had something to say.
She gave me her two cents worth,
And it took her all day.
She was remarkably honest.
Gee, what a treat.
And the things that she told me
I cannot repeat.
The look on her face,
Oh, it was quite a sight.
Her brow was so furled,
Her teeth clenched so tight
That it made her head turn
About as red as a beet.
And the things that she told me
I cannot repeat.
I do not understand
Half the things that she said.
And I really don't know
Why she wanted me dead.
Maybe she thought I was
Too fat, short, or tall?
Because she sure did not like me.
She didn't like me at all.
What could I have said?
What could I have done?
Oh, I tried to remember,
But I could not think of one
Single thing that I would,
Could have done, thought or said
To explain why she thought
I deserved to be dead.
I took her word for it, though.
What else could I do?
She said what was on her mind,
And she had every right to.
She was really quite honest.
Now wasn't that sweet?
And the things that she told me
I cannot repeat.
To make a long story short
I gladly went on my way.
And I didn't see her again
Until early today.
She was suspiciously cordial, frighteningly sweet.
And the things that she told me
I cannot repeat
Copyright © 1997 Richard D. Remler
Riveting and eerie, haunting the reader in its wake with the horrible creature that was a serpent one moment and a peach the next. Excellent tribute to reality. Delightfully rhyming and all too effective, gently poignant, in expressing frightening reality.