Perfectionist

I keep telling you that I am not a perfectionist

I grew up the only girl

So, I cooked, I washed dishes and served my family dinner

I learned how to take care of the young ones

It was always my responsibility to clean up

Whenever the house was in disorder

I keep telling you that I am not a perfectionist

I was taught to sew, crochet and to fix a broken door

The last time I left my door ajar,

A thief crept in like the ghost of a dead man

Who had left something behind in my house

I know that I always have to be on the look out

So I am ever prepared!

I keep telling you that I am not a perfectionist

If this were a song, I would have it on auto-repeat

Everything has to be planned and every plan has to be executed

On a random snowy stormy day in New York City

Just bang into any coffee shop and look as if you were beaten by the snow

Quiver your voice a little; make it as squeaky as a mouse’s

And stammer these words to the waitress who stands behind the counter

“The last time I was in, I left my winter coat here.”

She’s definitely familiar with the snow and its disappointments

But she’ll ask you only two questions
What day you came in

And to describe the coat you left behind

Even she, expects you to be a little more careful

And be prepared for any kind of weather 

On any given day

This can't be perfectionism; It is just good sense.

*Also visit Panorama-Blaze

~Poem by Trudy-Elsie 

  10-7-10

 4:30pm