Poetry Monday

Dirty Pollyanna

I will be your blanket
But I will not be the rug you trod.
That rug you never thank it,
And you ground in dirt the way you clod-about
In thoughtless, heavy steps,
But I don’t begrudge you warmth at all
You may not ever push me down-
But I will never let you fall
I would put you out were you on fire, even burn for you
But I won’t be a target for your ire, though I have its true
Been foolish in the past with choices that my heart made when naïve.
I wouldn’t change those choices now, not for the world,
You can’t conceive
That kindness doesn’t equal weakness,
I have armor made of light
I hug your inner child till they submit and give up trying to fight.
It’s not the meek who shall inherit
But the kindest of the pack
Ahimsa is our battle cry,
Harming none our only tack
I can be gritty,
Fluffy,
Raunchy,
Angry,
Wallowing in vice.
Just a dirty Pollyanna,
Naughty if you’re lucky,
But not ashamed of nice.

© R.G. Alexander