You Could Make This Place Beautiful

Sometimes you can’t put into words the sense of despair you feel. You have to rely on the words of better, more powerful writers. Today is one of those days.

Good Bones by Maggie Smith:

Life is short, though I keep this from my children.
Life is short, and I’ve shortened mine
in a thousand delicious, ill-advised ways,
a thousand deliciously ill-advised ways
I’ll keep from my children. The world is at least
fifty percent terrible, and that’s a conservative
estimate, though I keep this from my children.
For every bird there is a stone thrown at a bird.
For every loved child, a child broken, bagged,
sunk in a lake. Life is short and the world
is at least half terrible, and for every kind
stranger, there is one who would break you,
though I keep this from my children. I am trying
to sell them the world. Any decent realtor,
walking you through a real shithole, chirps on
about good bones: This place could be beautiful,
right? You could make this place beautiful.

9 thoughts on “You Could Make This Place Beautiful

  1. My sadness is double. Shortly after the Great American Matter, one of my best friend’s young husband died. Perspective comes when needed I guess. I don’t have any children. I wish I could keep all this from me. It’s hard to rally but rally we must. Americans, take heart, this too shall pass.


  2. Pingback: Poetry & Songs – Write It Down-ith

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