Oooweeeeeeeee

I have this poem. I wrote it one morning, shortly after getting up. Part of me thought it was really good. But, when I shared it with someone I thought might like it, all I got was an, “Okay.” *blinks* I wanted more of a response, like where there were flaws, or what was really neat about it. I was pretty sure it wasn’t that bad… certainly nothing to get all excited about like I’m a genius…
But it’s so rare that the mood to write an actual poem strikes me, that I usually am very careful in its creation. I’m glad I didn’t throw that poem away, to be lost forever… but part of me had left it in its notebook and cringed at the memory of something not so good. Yet, upon rediscovering that notebook, and rereading the favorite song lyrics, the drunken ramblings (part of me didn’t want to lose the thoughts of when my mind was, well… altered), and, yes, the poem… I realized it wasn’t nearly so bad as memory had classed it.
Isn’t that strange, how certain feelings and emotions can blur the memory to make it seem better or worse than it really was… and how shocking it is to discover that?
Unfortunately, I cannot share that poem with you right now because it isn’t memorized, and the notebook isn’t with me. So… you’re saved that at least. *grins*
( Wheel of Time questionaire at last )

Fin.