How Can You Be So Self-Satisfied? Poem by Margaret Alice

Criticism, of any kind and for any reason
always breaks my heart – I always accept
that I’m deserving of it, though
it does not lessen the pain
when you criticise my kids
I feel like death – even though
they also merit criticism
because I haven’t taught them
how to become good, staid citizens
so when I read criticism
even of Victoria Beckham
I feel sad once again…

I myself do complain
about certain singers who only gain
a reputation by mingling with
really great composers
yet she is only accepting the gift
life offered her, there is no evil intent

Why do you discern
evil intent when I fail to learn
the art of homemaking and
a regular job without faking
the statistics of what I’ve done
during the day? - I cannot exist
any other way – so how can I
blame anyone else – and how
can you be so self-satisfied?