Idealistic Me

This is a poem that I wrote at a pretty dark time during my first year of teaching.

Idealistic Me

Idealistic

me

Everything's rosy,

Everything's fine

...

I go in blind

tripping

stumbling

crumbling in the dark

My rose garden becomes my cell

trapping me in 

its thorny grasp

pulling me

down

down

down until my body and soul

break

snapped under the pressure

A glimpse

there it is!

sunshine

fresh air

room to breathe

I find my feet again,

and suddenly I have no memory

ignorant 

of my recent turmoil

My roses bloom...

but they are short lived

quickly wilting

leaving only vines

and thorns

lashing out

to tear

Idealistic me

apart

Becky Neeley 11/7/11

Welcome!

Years have passed since I have simply sat down to write something entirely for pleasure.  The last piece of writing I actually completed was a request to close an old bank account.  How could I have gone from a state champion feature writer, to never writing unless it's a necessity? Well, we are about to fix that.  Welcome to my new blog, "Shaping Up My Writing Muscles."