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Confessions
                       
I can cope with loved ones’ miseries once removed
but find up-close-and-personal to be too cruel.
 
I think face-to-face confession is overrated
when the bombshell dropped could be as well stated
 
in a muffled tone from distant place by phone,
giving me some time at first to fret alone.
 
I find that after two or three sleepless dawns
I usually can settle down and carry on
 
as if nothing is different and my heart’s intact
and I can help the one whose present life is cracked.
 
I know that it’s wrong to make it all about me
when someone else is doing first-hand suffering,
 
but since honesty’s the point in this manifesto,
call first. I promise I’ll eventually show.

Mary Beth Hines


If you have any thoughts on this poem, 
Mary Beth Hines would be pleased to hear them.


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