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  • Part of me will never understand poetry. I mean, I get it technically. It takes a strong mind and a clever wordsmith to sew together truly meaningful and deep works, and it takes an equally strong mind to unravel and understand them-kind of like a really flowery and complicated puzzle that only a few can see.

    But, what's the point? Why the fluff? Why the complication? Why the puzzle?

    Perhaps my lack of understanding stems from my immediate background. My father is an engineer, and engineers are like society's anti-poets. Only facts. Straight line of data. Done. Details and imagery are the unimportant stuff.

    "Where were you?" - "Outside."
    "What did you do?" - "Threw a caterpillar at my sister."
    "Go to your room."

    Questions like, "WHY did you throw a caterpillar at your sister?" Or "How were you FEELING at the time of said larva launch?" were never asked, and they never held much weight or importance. I grew up getting to know the beauty of straightforward facts.

    I suppose then I have a stunted poetic growth. While others find great joy and meaning within the works of Frost, Angelou, and Austin, I just scratch my head thinking, "Why the hell didn't you just say 'I really liked that rainbow?'"

    If ever asked to write a poem, I would probably slide out something like...

    "I have a deep sense of self-loathing that likes to crop up when I am at my most successful.
    The relationships that I have with my parents are blown out and are in need of repair.
    I am terrified of love.
    Also, I think kittens are cute."

    (Take THAT ya' yuppies...)

    But, please, disregard me, and write on poets. Keep on painting beautiful sunsets with your pens (or keyboards). Continue to shake people with your eloquent phrases. I'll still be here with my beautiful straightforward facts.
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