Now Matter How Nice It Was Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

There was a time in my life,
When I would rather write than talk.
Eat, walk or sleep.
I was taught early,
To stick with my interests.
And protect with respect to keep.

I had to get better,
Because nothing I did pleased me.
I didn't have to seek critique from 'enemies'.
What I inflicted upon myself,
Made the doings done by someone else...
Easier than they believed.

I use to attempt to teach my experiences.
But impatience got the best of me.
Especially when it was thought by others,
What I did not require sacrifice, devotion or discipline.
And this was instilled in me as a child.
From the very beginning I knew my smile,
Wouldn't pay a bill no matter how nice it was.