Many wonder what it's really like:
Am I as powerful as I think I am?
Reality bites with the jaws of a cobra.
I've also realized that I can bite harder.
End of discussion.
Angel, they say I am.
Nobody would say otherwise.
Generally, I am a pleasant ray of sunshine,
Enveloping everyone around me
Like a fog in a naval battle,
Intensifying the tension.
Charm is my secret weapon
And with it, I can bleed hearts dry.
Must I use my power for myself?
Endless possibilities open up
Right in front of me.
Zip my gown, curl my eyelashes,
And announce the coming of the Queen of Heart(break)s.
Twenty-four years on this planet --
Hardly even reached my prime.
Even so, I now hold two hearts in my hands.
Look what I can do to them.
Might just be my imagination, but
One heart seems to be more badly damaged.
*Birthday poem for AT 2008.
It's more like a support group, really.
Fred, for example, loved his girl so much
Only he was too dependent, too attached,
Relying too much on her emotional mood swings.
Girl soon left him for a basketball player in an SUV.
Isaac, for instance, was a weakling,
Very skinny, always picking his nose.
Eventually, his girl started riding in her boss's limo.
You all know what happens after that.
On the other hand, Paul, artist extraordinaire,
Undeniably talented, but an aggressive hothead.
Always humiliated and yelled at his girl in public.
In the end, she left him for a defensive driver.
Kenneth, meanwhile, would always use force on his girl
At times when she would walk out of an argument.
Then one last time, she stood up and walked out,
Heading straight into the open doors of someone's sports car.
Each meeting started with the four gathered 'round,
Loudly chanting the club's motto/mantra:
My girl left me. But was it really the car?
Or was it something else entirely?
*Oct 29 2008