I’ve been called lots of things-
A whore (my ex), Ms Aster (mother), a dog (classmates),
Among other (not so great) trappings.
Most recently a “braggart.”
Well, I suppose it’s so,
If to “brag” means the adjective
Of “excellent,” “first rate”
Holding myself to a higher level
Than the status quo.
You see, I’m no better than any other,
Not my sister, not my brother.
From dust we came and from dust
We will return,
The ground is level at the foot of the cross,
Six feet under or cremation and burn.
I only seek to demonstrate
That whatever point you are in life,
That it’s never too late.
If that is bragging, than I am guilty as charged.
Life is too short to squabble over semantics,
Whether I’m right and you’re wrong.
The world would be a much better place
If we would just stop and give each other grace.
For whether it’s you or it’s me,
We can work together if we
Agree to disagree.
I make no apologies for who I am
Or who I have become.
I respect your right to your opinion
For it is yours, and not the force of
Just be respectful of mine as well.
I will treat you with respect, be courteous to you,
I may not understand where you have been or where
You are coming from.
I do try, and in the trying I do not hate you.
Hate me if you must, hate what I stand for,
Hate whom I trust.
I “Yam what I yam,” as Popeye would say.
Love me, or hate me…whore, Ms Aster, dog, braggart…
I know of no other way
Than to be who I am,
Carefree, FREE, unhindered, totally myself.
There was a time I lived in a shell.
My loyalty is to ME first,
For it is only THEN that I am capable
Of loving anyone else.