With Few Exceptions To Debate Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

Some believe what I do is easy.
Even making comments...
Abundant with amusing quips.
As if I command each selected word.
Without a single pressured thought,
Connected to the delivery done of this!
With no apparent devotion...
Or committment attached to it!

I never wished my steps babied.
Like, maybe, some suspect!
I was raised to be responsible.
With a respect to protect.
I remember my mother saying...
'Care less what names you are called.
Do as I expect!
And that is all.'

My sisters and I were taught this,
From the time we could talk and crawl.
It was the kind of love that did not smother.
Or keep us sheltered,
Behind restricting walls.
There were expectations.
With few exceptions to debate.

Some believe what I do is easy.
Even making comments...
Abundant with amusing quips.
As if I command each selected word.
Without a single pressured thought,
Connected to the delivery done of this!
With no apparent devotion...
Or committment attached to it!

But nothing has come to this man easy.
Oh, I've felt the queasies in my stomach.
And threw up more than I admit!

I've learned it takes effort to get around,
Those who have missions to knock me down.
To cripple my abilities to get up and stand.
But no clues do I give to tease.
In regards to that strength kept inside of me.
Nor who it is that I am...
That makes me stand tall,
With an arrogance that is grand!