Insecurity Poem by sylvia spencer
Insecurity
I throw the seeds to the birds and wonder who will come.
I stand there for hours biting the nail on my thumb.
Does this mean I am insecure and looking for love.
Or am I serching for God who I try to reach above.
I lock the doors at night and check all the latches,
I even check the boxes of all the striking matches.
Life to me is checking and re checking, it comes
from the top of the house out to the garden decking.
I check the garden shed to see if the padlocks tight.
I am always thinking someone might break in at night.
checking and re checking that's all I ever do.
Even when I go to bed, have I put the the bleach down the loo.
Has the heating been turned off and the plugs pulled out
Every night I hear it and it becomes the same old shout.
Its not me that's insercure so please don't think I am.
It's my dear beloved husband, such an insecure man.
Again such a wonderful piece. We all have insecurities, Our own little Iago's telling us things we don't wish to hear. (cheating spouses, constant insecurities within ourselves, worries about locking doors and windows, putting out fires ect.) We wouldn't be human without them....... Sincerely Nickie x x
Another delightful poem, Sylvia. This one with a surprise ending. I loved it. Warm regards, Sandra
Hey! the twist on the end of this was very funny, however I do feel for those that constantly re -check doors windows etc, I find myself doing it often, A great write, or did I just say that...I'll Check! Love Duncan
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/25/2024 12:03:54 PM # 1.0.0.1119
I know the feeling Sylvia, they are always on about security and what 'we' should do, but they fail miserably themselves, and don't like being told when they do. Great observation here. Love Ernestine XXX