Scented Bubbles Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

I am not here specifically,
To burst anyone's scented bubbles.
Not purposely with intention focused.
Although, frankly, I must admit,
I enjoy the aroma they give.
There is something about them,
That provides me greater incentive.
As if they promote my motivation.
And...
I do believe,
If they are going to be blown...
I am going to do my best to make it known,
Bubbles to break that are not my own...
Have always been my ambition,
To my own floating and alone.

What can I say?
I am going to stay 'and' look away?
When others have their bubbles on parade?
Comeon.

And if bubbles to break are also scented?
Well...
Aren't they the first ones to be broken?
Something about them says,
'I dare you to break me first.'
Who in their right mind,
Would give that kind of permission?

Since the scent of them attracts,
Those more serious in the act...
Of seeing their bubbles rise as high as possible,
Why should I let the scented ones...
Get all of the attention?
Especially if the doing is a competition.
Bubbles to break are for me like bait.

'Hey...
You're breaking my bubbles.'

Didn't you intend that scent to be meant?
Don't complain.
Aren't you here to be mentioned?
Wasn't that your intention?
You got it don't cry about it.

'Yes.
But you are not letting them rise.
Not as high as I would like them.'

Stop giving them scent.
Who knows...
Perhaps they will rise unopposed.
And as a suggestion,
Use less confetti.
Let your bubbles rise,
Without unnecessary accessories.
Do you see mine?

'No.
No I don't.'

And you wont.
I'm here to see them rise.
Until I want them recognized.